It's predictable, the mood that I'm in

It's been a long week. I think a lot of us around these parts can say that with assurance, particularly those of us who had to drive in this shit fucking weather every day. Even today, when it's not snowing or raining (yet), I passed five car pulled over in the break down lane, each of them having a tire or two changed by some unlucky and probably pissed at the world driver. The cause of this event appeared to be a gaping pothole that was being serviced in the passing lane.

So the weather has been shit and to top it off I've been in the grips of a stomach bug. So, I guess you could say I've been shit, too. Literally, my darlings. I worked most of the day but probably could have done without going in at all. Jeff's away, not a lot of work; my presence wasn't essential. I slept most of the night but woke up at five thirty this morning and bee-lined to the bathroom. A pattern followed of going back to bed, just about falling asleep, being woken up by warning gurgles, then rushing to the bathroom. Happened eight times, took about an hour. No point in going back to sleep at that point. Hence, I've had a sleepy, gurgly day.

Supposed to be warm and sunny tomorrow. I'll take it, even with the knowledge that we're headed back to the deep freeze we've grown so accustomed to. And more snow, I hear. Aw, fuck it. We're in fighting shape; we can handle it.

I"m thinking chicken soup with some saltines sounds good about right now. Maybe later I'll watch an episode of The IT Crowd, a show a number of people have recommended. It's a bit more demented than I anticipated, which is a mark in its favor. Sometimes the humor is a bit derivative, but there are hearty laughs in every episode I've watched so far. And I still haven't gotten to Matthew Berrry's appearances on the show. That man brings the ruckus!

Shane should be sending me a file of the song of his I'll be singing over. If I we can figure out the means for me to record the vocals at my place, I'll be spared from having  to see him face to face. He always gives me sidelong glances that suggest he wants to kill me.

Alright, I'm out. What's that? You hope I feel better? Oh, that's sweet!