I am supposed to be at a party, just as I was supposed to be at a party last night, but I feel like total crap, and so I have decided to go to bed at ten p.m. instead. Yes, I am old and sad. At least I was in a decent mood today, despite my illness; I had to go into the office this morning, but I left at 12:30 to drive back to the evil city. I ran a couple of errands when I got here, then grabbed coffee and came home with the intention of working. But Terry was here when I got home, so instead, I talked to her for awhile, ordered some stuff online for a secret side project, and then ate supper while watching the first episode of this season of 'Top Chef: Masters'. Then we watched two episodes of 'Drunk History'. Then I tried to rally for zee party, but I failed, since I can barely breathe and have no desire to choke on my own phlegm while trying to do karaoke.
And given that I'm attempting to misspell everything (in that last paragraph, I started typing 'shef', 'breethe', and 'caraoke') and I'm not drunk at all, that's probably a sign that I'm incapable of thinking (or 'encapable', as I started to say). So, I desperately need to sleep and hope that I can recover from this cold so that I can write a million words this weekend. Goodnight!
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