Your roving reporter here, coming to you from the mouth breathing, pill popping, fuzzy brain ward.

Last night was a little scary.

For some reason, I spiked a fever after feeling fairly well most of the day. I lay on the couch contemplating the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, and decided I didn’t know squat about any of those things.

No two thoughts would hang together long enough to make a coherent argument in favor of, or against, the design of human sinus cavities. What IS going on up there anyway?

I finally gathered my courage and slithered off the couch, turned off lights and crawled into bed where I slept for ten hours, disturbed by unpleasant dreams that at one point included Muammer Gaddafi, [I kid you not.]

Today, I am trying to console myself about missing my knitting group get together tomorrow. I don’t want to spread contagion. Besides I don’t think I should be trusted behind the wheel of a car. I don’t think my brain is working quite right.

I keep telling myself I could put a load of laundry in the machines, I could do a few dishes, I could dust the furniture or something else productive, but when I get up and start moving around… that’s exactly what happens to the room… it moves around. So I go sit down again.

The only thing that I seem capable of doing right now is playing Zuma. The game distracts me from my symptoms and if I die, I get new lives by going back to the beginning.

I wonder if that would work with sinuses?