Blargh

Among the many things that made me speechless with admiration when I first read Dorothy Dunnett's Lymond Chronicles was that, when Lymond has a headache, he thinks of a poem about the megrims. I don't have a migraine; I just have a cold. I keep trying to think of a quotation about having a cold. I did think of one. Long, long ago, coffeeem wrote a Minneapazine while she was sick, and its title was entirely appropriate to my situation. It's a little bit gross, though, so I haven't used it. I am thinking it, though.

I think this is the Wiscon head cold, and it is really nasty. I have been sick since June 1 and I am bored with it. I also infected Raphael, which is totally unfair. And it's dragonfly season.

Anyway, if I owe you email or an LJ comment, this is why you haven't gotten an answer. I hope to be less foggy in a few days.

Pamela

Puzzled note: the Spell Check, Preview, and Post buttons did not work in Opera, and I had to fire up Firefox to post this, Ghargh.