|This starling looks about like I feel—shaky of stance, overfluffed, prone to the shivers, |
and about an inch away from a bad attitude.
It's good to have goals—a fellow needs something he can work towards, dream about, hope to accomplish. For the past few days, my goal has been to sit before this computer and fire off a victory post…MAN TRIUMPHS OVER MICROBES!
Well, here I am, though I gotta tell you, those were some dandy pathogens. Super Bugs if ever I encountered one. We whipped and whumped, gouged eyes, bit ears, and fought one another tooth and nail, from Christmas Eve until this very afternoon—but the battle wasn't so much won as it was the participants on both sides just plumb wore out and agreed to call it a draw.
I finally made it down the hall to my writing room. Even stuck my head outside earlier. And it's been a whole quarter-hour since my last coughing fit. So I wanted to use this new-found burst of strength to report in…before I toodle off to actually examine a number of Christmas presents I barely managed to get out of their wrapping paper Saturday. I will write more tomorrow…