WHO REMEMBERS YESTERDAY'S reference to a "cold I've been fighting off all week"? Strike that. It's a fever.
I was supposed to go into work today. Not happening. Instead, my fever (and somehow oddly intact work ethic) earns me the right to... work from home. Which isn't bad--getting paid to take DayQuil is a job that many overlook but remains both fiscally responsible and very light on commute. In truth, I did sit at the computer and attempt to be of some service to the Country Living cause. It was mindless, but it was something to do.
Not helping are the people next door who have decided today is a very good day to renew their commitment to techno (I would specify that said techno was being reaffirmed at a very loud volume, but I find "loud techno" to be redundant). Maybe it's me, or maybe it's just Greenpoint, I dunno, but for the love of Paul Oakenfold, couldn't they pick something with rhythm? When I was living down on S. 4th in Williamsburg, the music there was loud too but, bless their Latino hearts, at least that shit had some soul. This straight eighth-notes crap is pointless.
I'm cranky. I'm hot. I'm cold.