Everybody in my household got the flu this week, and it hit me hardest two days ago. I slept most of the day away, and felt pretty crummy about it.* So yesterday, I got a little bit done, but I was still achey and coughing. And today, I discovered my voice was completely blighted by my illness--for example, when I called my cousin, he absolutely did not want to hear my voice (oh wait, that's every day--bad example). When I called Big Anklevich, he was not at all pleased to hear me, and it didn't help that I started the conversation with "My, what a lovely day for an exorcism"--and would ruin whatever recording I did with it, despite it getting mighty late to get my Christmas episode done.
In the end, though I may falter, nothing gets Fake Sean Connery down.
*By that, I mean, I had felt physically sick, but I also felt guilty for having slept fourteen to sixteen hours instead of getting any writing, exercise, or work with a paycheck attached done. Funny how you can be your own a-hole boss sometimes.
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