Man, even the word is nasty - Phlegm. Spittum is no better. Lung cookie is a favorite but many people squint when I use it. Whatever you call it, I have it - in spades. No, really. Gardening spades full of it.
Let's see - fever, cough, exhaustion, sore throat, congestion, runny nose...add some buboes and it'd be the Dark Ages all over again. But do you know what makes this martyr specially martyristic? I kissed and waved at the Trooper as he left for a ride on his new bike with his pal. The world needs to know just how amazing I am. It could just be the fever talking at this point, though.
I tried to get some work done but found myself sending out meeting requests during times that no one was available. Suhweet. Step away from the Outlook. Instead, it has been a series of blow, hack, sip, hack, blow, keel over. I will have to deal with work later when I haven't more snark than sense.
I will tell you this, though - if that damned cat rings the bells on the door knob to go outside ONE MORE TIME I will put him in the tub. Smartass bastard. What kind of cat tells you when to open the door?
Right, then. Time to keel over, I think.