I’m taking applications for a houseboy. No, that’s not true, of course. I’m still sick, and don’t want to go to the store. But, I need Pepsi, Spaghettios and a grilled cheese to go another round with these germs and so I must. It’s just as well. Youse know how a Type-A aspiring to be a Type-B like me does. I’m trying to rest and feel better, but I’m laying around going rest, type, rest, type, email, gather, move, file, organize, find, look at clock, rest, type, cmon feel better… nnnnow.. Okay nnnnnow! and not really resting.

I get up early but when Ma Guth called today and said, at like nine in the morning, Oh shit, did I wake you up? I sounded like a cross between a two-pack-a-day octogenarian and a squeaky door. Now, post steamy shower to clear the nose, maybe just the squeaky door. Plus Minnie Mouse. Bleh. Today is the worst of it, but maybe that means I’ll start perking up tomorrow. In the meantime, my brain is in a fog. Bloop, blee, blee, bloop, bloop bloop. If anyone wants to run a crazy idea by me, today is a good day to do it.

But, I do have sense enough to recognize three positive haps today. One, Mermaidhead’s baby is being born as we speak. Two, The Prosecutor’s birthday is today, too. Three, you guys– we’ve already raised almost half of my fundraising goal for the walk, and I haven’t even been taking donations for a solid 24-hours yet. Good, Good, Good.

Wait, what’s that you say? What walk? Where can you donate? Oh, well click here, of course, for everything you need to know.

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