It's November. Christmas is peeking around the corner. There, you can almost see Santa's fat gut squashed into the Ho Ho Suit.

November, and it's raining with dull monotony - everyday. Yes, the grey mist the showers throw around everything is hauntingly beautiful and all, but cold and wet isn't nice when you're sick and speechless.

Say again?

Oh, apparently I can't talk longer than three sentences or louder than a bad reception without one of my tonsils trying to secede from my throat. Or that's how it feels like anyway. Yes, mom, it's not that I don't want to say anything in answer. Oh wait, didn't you tell me to go see a doctor? I just don't get it then.

Well, it's been a pretty exciting few days witnessing my temperature go up and down like a yoyo, various mucus and salivary glands go absolutely haywire (my...what pretty colours!) and still drag myself to work on Monday, but today is different.

Dang, I mean, I'm already a day late.

It's November. One more month to go. Time to start receiving all those yearly calendar planners from insurance companies and stuff.

Dunno why, November's a nice name, I guess. Hmm.