Can you beat a cold through sheer bloodymindedness?

I swear there is some sort of computer transmitted virus in the blogosphere. No sooner do I hear about someone else coming down with something, then I feel a tickle in the back of my throat that blooms into full blown runny nose, chills, nausea and body aches within approximately 10 minutes. But that’s not the point! The point is that I CAN’T be sick right now. I’m supposed to be getting ready for a 5 day long road trip to the East Coast! Not acceptable. Grrrr. I will choke down “cold season” tea (Yogi says: Recognize that the other person is you…and just what the fuck does that mean?) and Emergen-C, and I will beat this thing god damn it! And then I will go home and tuck myself into bed at approximately 7:30pm, and sleep until it’s gone…fucking virus anyway. Nasty wee beasties.

Spent last night ferrying things over to my studio, and in the process I took a tumble on our treacherous stairs of death when I missed the bottom step, landing squarely on my knees. So I’m limping slightly today, and that’s in addition to the chills and body aches…I can’t sort out what’s sore muscles from wrangling boxes of fabric around, and what’s a symptom…don’t suppose it matters. I had a lot of fun showing Dready around “my” building though. She got to see my mailbox (I have a mailbox!) and the sign by the door that has my name on it…and of course the studio it’s self, which she pronounced to be “more modern” than she’d thought it would be. More modern, and now filled with piles of fabric that have been separated from their shelves in my old garret. I need some shelves baby, I need shelves bad.

I also hijacked her camera. I’m going to fill up the memory card, and give it back to her, and then she will email me the pictures and I will slowly release them on the blog, thus creating the illusion that I am a “real” blogger. Clever huh? Okay maybe that’s just the cold medicine talking…fucking virus. I’m going to try to beat this thing by abusing the infection so much that it decides my body is inhospitable and leaves of it’s own accord. Ha! Take that you cold bug you.

And here’s a depressing thought, since I am feeling low down and sorry for myself anyway. We have a time clock program on our computers at work, so everyday when I punch out it prints me a little receipt that lets me know exactly how much of my life I have wasted in this place. Today’s total: 9717.283 hours. That’s 404.88 days…continuous days mind you. That’s 1.109 years. Over a year! One whole year of my life, gone. Just signed over to someone else to do with as they please. Can you even conceive of how much a person could accomplish if they devoted a solid year, 24 hours a day? I could have raised the sheep, sheered them, scoured the wool, spun it and made it into some sort of gigantic totally useless thing…a house cozy or something. And if you consider that I’d have to sleep for some of that time, say 8 hours a day perhaps, that brings the total more like a year and a half. Fuck a duck. Grrr. And what do I get in exchange? Some completely useless little scraps of paper that disappear form my life before they’re even registered in my bank account. Some micro percentage of the house that’s been paid off…myriad car repairs…food. Blah.

But! I have a studio that’s all mine and just waiting for me to come over and sort things into piles and tape things to the walls, and organize everything so that it’s neat and pretty and so everything will be okay. As soon as this fugnasty virus gets out of my head. And then Dready and I will head off to the “old” part of America and check out what Philly has to offer. I’m quite looking forward to seeing Dready’s reaction to our oldest cities, since she’s from Paris and will probably get a good chuckle out of it.

Ragnar….no wee beastie gonna keep me down.