So it's Tuesday. So I go to work, since I didn't drag in on Monday, and by 1:00 my supervisor's looking at me and making warding signs and muttering things like, "Ames, you sound like hell. Why don't you go home and….sleep? or something like that?" With the implied statement, "We don't want your germs, would you please take them home?"
Andy-the-sysadmin was a bit less tactful: "You are breathing in my office. Go away!" Sooooo….unloved and germ-laden, here I am at home, hackcoughwheezing into my keyboard and wondering if you can pop stuffed-up ears with anything except surgical instruments…Bah, I say.
So, you ask, why aren't you lying on the couch, sleeping? Gee, it couldn't possibly be the two cats who, upon seeing me come in the door several hours early, both thought at the same time: "YEAH! Extended petting session on the couch right NOW!" *stomp stomp knead knead PURR!*