I had yesterday off, which is not unusual at the Exceedingly Cool Freelance Gig. Herewith, some highlights:

10:30 AM: Housecall at the home of my former choral conductor. She is my only remaining IT client from my days of being Mac Guy at Large. Tech issues in her household tend to be of the help I can’t print or the what is this file on my desktop can I throw it away variety (invariably: plug it back in; yes), but I still help her out because (a) she’s a friend and (b) I get free voice lessons in exchange. Swipe a couple of throat lozenges out of the dish in her living room as I leave, because the weekend’s excesses have left me with that little postnasal tickle that sleep-deprivation etc. can bring on.

1:30 PM: 90-minute session with Ken O’Neill, Best Massage Therapist Ever.1 I’d been needing this for, um, months. Try not to make too many little throat-clearing noises as he restores something like an actual range of motion to my shoulders. Leave in that happy floaty just pour me into a bucket and put me in a taxicab headspace.

6:30 PM: Meeting with The Secret Cabal, my new writers’ group. Great bunch of folks. We don’t have a website yet, but sooner or later we will be taking over the world. You have been warned. Meeting is at Tea Spot, down in the village. Air conditioners/white-noise generators are loud enough to be kind of disruptive, but the hot tea offered by a fellow Cabalist (Caballero?) actually helps my throat.

8:30 PM: Home with a case of the Tea Janglies and a takeout quesadilla. Throat-clearing noises starting to annoy me.

11:30 PM: Ahem. Ahem. A-hem. Ahem.

12:45 PM: Ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem. Ahem. Ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem. Glass of water. Ahem ahem ahem ahem. Take Claritin in the hopes that it will staunch the postnasally thing. Ahem ahem ahem. Vigorous cough.

1:45 AM: Ahem ahem ahem ahem cough ahem cough ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem cough ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem ahem oh dear god. Beat self into unconsciousness with copy of Absolute Sandman, the heaviest book in the room.

fin

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