The morning of doom

And a lovely weekend it was, too.

Saturday was some quality Call of Cthulhu gaming in a sci-fi setting that left me blown away with the sheer awesomeness of it all. Once again, my good friend Mackie has left it clear who the God-Emperor of GMs is.

Sunday was time with the gran. Over the entire weekend I was feeling congested and believed it to be allergies (Mackie's cat was considered a primary suspect). As I got home, an achy feeling set in and was joined with a sore throat.

And it dawned on me that perhaps I do not actually suffer from allergies at this point.

I slammed some Nyquil (trusty Nyquil, how I love thee) and was down for the count for a good ten hours of uninterrupted sleep. Woke this morning to my alarm and grumpily made my way into the office.

It's a testament to how out-of-it I was that I got in and realized I'm ridiculously-early for work. I set my alarm assuming I'd bike in. I woke with the Nyquil brain-fuzz and the general crap feeling of still being sick and thought: "No... no bicycle for me today. Thanks."

Honestly, I'm debating how wise it was to come into the office. I don't feel so crappy that I can't work, though. And it would be more hassle to pack up and go home at this point.

This is going to throw a monkey wrench in my week. Bleah.