This would be the third day off work with this this cold. Yesterday was spent in bed with regular shots of Nyquill to knock my ass out. Today I made it to the office but turned around and left when the ceiling wouldn't remain still.
It's not warm here; it's almost hot. Wife beater, frizzy hair and pajama bottoms hot. 75 degrees in the treehouse hot, which according to pale blue people is quite warm enough, thank you.
Also the fever spikes might be causing me to sporadically discard clothing.
The three glorious kids next door have serenaded Shred and I from the deck with Perse's new "Ducks in the Pond" song. There was choreography which included their nanny's new barky little dog Treasure. (Did I mention the nanny renamed herself Heaven last week?)
Latest thing to piss me off: single missing handknit socks.