dancing over coals and we'd never know

So I have this disease. It's the Fever, but not a fever for cowbell or even Matt Cullen. It's a real fever, and while I would normally just drown it in over-the-counter medication and liquids, I cannot, for nothing I put in my body is staying there. Which defies laws of gravity and logic, and I hate it.

So they let me go home very early to get better and not make anyone sick. But it is boring here. So I will take a nap. Another problem is that my whole body feels like it is cooking from the inside, except my hands and feet are freezing cold, like there's no blood in them. That's just gross. I hope a nap cures this, because that's all I've got to work with. And I need to get back to work bright and early tomorrow. Working from home is way too frustrating and irritating to be an option, especially on a Thursday.

Eew, there's a big Jeff Goldblum-sized fly in the house. I'm crying.

Oh, please read this. It's like The Framley Examiner, only real. Also, in case Merrill didn't tell you, that means he had 47 goals and 42 assists (for a total of 89 points) in 28 games. And that's what we'd call a fantastic 28 games.