I am not the type to whine about being sick, so I will simply say this. I caught Sydney's cold and now I'm pretty fuckin' miserable. Sure, sure, I'll feel better by Friday and completely cleared up by Xmas and if you look at it from a cost/benefit analysis point of view, it's little more than an inconvenience, but still, this sucks. 'Sides, it's not like I'm blaming anyone and I'm sure I've already passed the germs on to my comrades after seeing Closer on Tuesday night.

Closer rocked, by the way. Clive "The Man Who Should Be Bond" Owen rockin' the fuckin' house and fucking owning? Check. Julia Roberts actually doing a good job acting? Check. (She was good in Ocean's 12, also; the only thing that I felt had significantly improved.) Jude Law being the jackass that chicks dig? Check. Natalie Portman as a hot stripper? Fucking CHECK!

Anyway, today I watched last week's taped WWE programming while I slowly realized I was getting ill. Realized there's no orange juice, so I've been suckin' down the cranberry. Campbell's chicken noodle for lunch. Song Hay Inn's BBQ Pork Wonton soup for dinner. Made tea, realized it wasn't decaf and went to go make decaf. Drank all the decaf. Went to bed and realized that being ill is keeping me from sleeping. Ah well. Tomorrow I'll put together a pot of chai and well see if Thor comes through with whatever concoction he's suggesting from Yang Chow.

Tonight, I expect Melissa heading to the airport will shank most of the evening. As far as Xmas and Xmas Eve goes...the idea of spending both of those completely fucking drugged-out is kind of appealing to me.