This cold is killing me. Well, not the cold itself but the symptoms. Light headache, nagging cough; you know that feeling you get when you have to sneeze? That tickle in your sinuses? When you can’t sneeze for release, that tickle is paralyzing as it lingers. And you know, other than those tiny annoy-me-to-death symptoms, I’m fine. I can think and function just fine. Only my patience is drained.

My sixth workday and, while I’m reluctant to say it, I look forward to it. In a job where the crew influences how well your day goes, I get a damned fine crew today. I get to work with some of my favorite people, some of whom I rarely get to see. I look forward to today. There’s gonna be so much hugging.

My regular chores I am reluctant to tackle. Math, for instance, I’ve listened to a whole host of lectures this past week. I have a week left to study a semester’s worth of stuff. I’m gonna slog through it. I’m gonna learn that math I’m gonna work hard and diligently and I’m gonna do a damned good job, just introducing melodrama along the way. Or, in my case, mellow-drama: I don’t really mean it, it’s just my creaks and moans as I adjust.

I’ll cope with some drinking. Maybe a giant pizza, my favorite comfort food of all time.