My cold has entered the cranial evacuation phase (thanks to Hannah’s germ-breathing pillow-stealing the other night), where everything that has been hoarded in there over the last few days is now trying to make a break for freedom. My eyes feel kind of like a super-ball that was found under the couch. My sinuses feel like the end of a long summer’s day at an over-chlorinated pool. And my face is covered in so many petroleum products that I look like an oil slick.
This has not been very conducive to paper-writing, as you might have guessed. Blech!
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