Let’s see… Arthur C Clarke is gone, the Killer Death Flu Of Death has made merry havoc for everyone I know over the last couple of months, fuel prices keep going upward, taxes are hitting me (and a few others) harder than they did last year, I rarely see more than a couple of my friends anymore, I’ve lost touch with several others entirely, I still can’t find comfortable sheets for my bed, I’m getting older and creakier, every one of my computers has some kind of annoying problem getting in the way of my doing what I actually want to use them for, nearly everything worth watching anymore is old stuff, let’s not even go into the fact that there hasn’t been a movie worth seeing in the theater since mid-2007, and, and, and…

2008? You can go sit in the corner. Don’t come out until you can play nice.

Because I said so. That’s why.

Year of the Rat, my ass.

With apologies to the venerable Monty Python, what follows is a barely-embellished account of my experience a few minutes ago at Ye Olde Purveyors Of Hot Stimulating Beverages…

“Hello, what can I get for you this morning?”

“Hmm. How about a chonga bagel?”

“Sorry, we’re out.”

“The other one, the Hawaiian bagel?”

“We’re all out of bagels.”

“Right. Sandwiches, then. I’ll take a sausage breakfast sandwich.”

“Ah, we’re out of those too.”

“Well, that’s a bit disappointing. You know, I’ll try something new and have the ham sandwich.”

“Actually…”

“Wow. You know, I’m starting to feel like I should turn and shout at the band to stop that bloody singing. But there’s no band here.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. What sandwiches do you have?”

“We have the pepper bacon!”

“One of those, then, thanks.”

It then took several minutes for the girl to make my cocoa, not because it was particularly busy but because she stopped down for a while to… dink around, as near as I can tell. I wish the Evil Coffee Empire outpost nearest my home wasn’t staffed with such dingbats. I also wish they’d get their food deliveries on time!

The suffering I endure for your amusement…

I’ll make this quick because I’m tired…

As of last Saturday, I’m thirty-six years old. Hurrah! I enjoyed quality time with my daughter (mostly spent playing Heroes of Might and Magic V) and dinner out with Kyla and a bunch of former coworkers (during which I tried lamb kabobs for the first time, which I rather liked) and received birthday presents of a water bottle (don’t knock it, I’d mentioned getting one) and a gift card useful for buying DVDs (I’m not an addict, I can stop any time, honest) and the door to my room has been repaired so I no longer have to wrench my arm to latch it (seriously, I spent part of Sunday just going in and out of my room to enjoy how easy it is to operate the door now).

I am also, as of some-time-late-this-weekend, pretty much over the Killer Death Flu Of Death, Wot Kills. Finally. Our long national nightmare two-week ordeal is finally over. Now to try to get caught back up on my life…

You know the illness has me good and floored if I can’t even bring myself to sit at the desk and putter around on the computer. Seriously: I’ve checked mail and that’s about it. Even writing this short post is just about all of the “glowing rectangle” time I can muster this afternoon.

I have a fever, aching joints and muscles, tender skin, an off-again on-again cough, and for some reason it hurts to breathe through my nose. (That’s a new one on me!) I’ve also been subsisting mostly on water and cold meds due to a near-complete lack of appetite. All of this has gone on for three solid days, and as of yet I don’t feel one whit better now than I did Sunday… in fact, I’m feeling worse in most respects. (The coughing’s gone down a bit.)

I need to get better, and quickly. Missing two days of work, especially the two that I have so far, is not enhancing my standing at the office any. Argh.