I'm sick, so screw proper diction.

If it wasn't for the ever changing symptoms, I would be worried that I was simply staying sick, never actually beating it off completely. I also realized where I am picking up these little bits of joy. My second job involves interacting with people that come to Southern California from all over the country. I'm a lightening rod for illness, so it is little wonder that I am picking up a complete selection of this countries flu strains, one after another.

College was so much simpler. We had dangerous periods near any three day weekend, but otherwise the entire town pretty much stayed put, isolated to a large degree from the rest of the community, all through winter.

The real b*tch about this particular cold is that, if I call off sick tomorrow, they will think I did so because of the Super Bowl. I've watched a grand total of two football games in the last eight years, and I didn't sit through all of either of them. That I'd give up money to watch football on television, which in combination I rate somewhere around getting a root canal, is insulting.

My book this week is Mr. Monday, by Garth Nix. Nix's "Across the Wall" series came recommended to me by one of my English professors, so I have high hopes for these books. At the very least, he's a great deal more mature, and faster, of a writer than Ms. Rowling, so I won't languish in agony for upwards of a decade waiting for the rest of the series to be cranked out. I have not finished it yet, so I won't break it down, but the premise, that the seven deadly sins are running the kingdom of heaven after the Creator (or, "Architect," as she is called in the book) is interesting. The trope he uses of a reincarnated Arthur is not as interesting, but I'll go with it for now.