Virus attack

No, I mean an actual virus, attacking me. Not very vigorously so far, but I've got that "go away, don't bother me" feeling the body exudes when it's working on repelling boarders, and a scratchy throat and some sniffles. I'd put the latter two down to spring,but the former gives me pause. Much as I dislike the thought, I might skip this evening's festivities at Minicon and apply tea, vitamins, zinc, and rest, in the interest of being better for the rest of the weekend. I'm definitely going, barring a fever of a hundred and two. But I think a rest period is probably indicated.

My resolve is further strengthened by the fact that David recently appeared before me, brandishing a red plastic water glass, squinching up his eyes accusingly, and demanding, "Are YOU the Echinacea Thief?" I realized after he had taken his echinacea and left to do Minicon work that somewhere in the past few years, since he got reading glasses, his unadorned face has acquired the look mine always has without glasses, at least insofar as I am able to determine what that look is in the first place.

As long as I'm babbling, I want to insert, just for my own edification in the far future, that Richard Clarke is my hero. That is all.

Pamela