i was feeling a bit under the weather yesterday so i went home early. later that night at the pub, i contemplated calling in sick today but couldn’t justify it (mainly because i was out instead of “resting”). the Brit said “you’re going to regret not calling in sick…” i hate when he’s right. i’m miserable. a “wild” night of 2 drinks and stumbling in the door at ten o’clock cannot account for the increase in mucus production overnight. these are the key takeaways of this story - i’m going home, going out did not make me sicker and i should listen to the Brit more often (but don’t tell him i said that).
is it friday yet?
what i said
blogs i read
hits are as good as facebook friends
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what i’m reading
"Middlemarch" George Eliot
"Gaudete" Ted Hughes
done and dusted
"To Kill a Mockingbird" Harper Lee
"Bleak House" Charles Dickens
"Four Plays" Henrik Ibsen
"Night" Elie Wiesel
"The Safety of Object" A.M. Homes
"The Thurber Carnival" James Thurber
"Band of Brothers" Stephen Amborse
"Sister of My Heart" Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

two cents