My theorem about sick days is this; there are basically two kinds.
One is when you have a scratchy throat and don't want to infect the office. This one also applies to injuries. You can't make it to work, but you're well enough to catch up on reading the paper or watching TV, or even blogging.
The other is when you feel so miserable that you do nothing much but sleep.
I thought yesterday was going to be from column one (fatigue, light headache). I dropped off Lydia, when the bus heading back to my house showed up. (I had forgotten my work ID - again; obviously I have issues with those badges.) By the time I got home, the mild headache turned into a raging migrane, probably caused by dehydration and insomnia, the solution to which, for me, is sleep.
So, no insights on BUSTED: The Citizen's Guide to Surviving Police Encounters, a 45-MINUTE You Tube video link e-mailed to me on "how to successfully refuse unwarranted police searches and seizures by exercising your constitutional rights", also available on DVD from FlexYourRights.org. No review (yet) of the St. Elsewhere Season 1 DVD I got in the mail Friday. Don't have the brain cells to ascertain if the middle name of Barack Obama will prove to be a political liability. But do go see A Charlie Brown Christmas, As Performed by the Cast of Scrubs, recommended by some guy in Buffalo.
Actual content tomorrow, probably.
Happy birthday, GC!
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