Back into good health, back to work. A good solid day of sleep does wonders. I started yesterday by shooing my wife and kids out of the house, taking a shot glass full of Nyquil and then counting backwards from 99. I got somewhere in the eighties before my vision started to blur. Shortly afterwards, I passed out on the sofa under a wool blanket.

There are few things that make you feel uglier than having a head cold. Your nose is swollen and red from being blown and wiped; your skin is clammy and sweaty; you wear comfy, non-flattering baggy clothes that provide warmth above style; your eyes are glassy and half-open; your voice is most likely a raspy, scratchy version of the original and don't even ask about shaving - all these multiply the "don't touch me, I haven't showered yet" look into something that would scare your own mother away. You want to crawl into the back of a cave to moan and watch bad daytime TV. So that's what I did. I stayed inside all day, only venturing to stick my arm out the front door long enough to bring the mail in. Today, I'm better for it.

The phone rang a few times, re-enforcing the feeling of being loved by my officemates. Strangely enough, their inquiries of concern were always followed by technical questions. Go figure.