PlazaJen: Passion Knit

My spirits are a little better today, despite my continued fishbowl-state with Le Grande HeadColde. It's like when you were little, and you were really, super-duper puking-up sick, and then by the third day, you could sit up and watch TV (if you had one, which I didn't, so I just played with a stick and a rag and read 800 books) and you got to eat a little sherbet and people were cheerful and not so worried about you and talked about when you would be ready to go back to school? That's what today's like for me. And I've discovered that when people call me? I BRAY AT THEM. Like a mule. Cheerfully braying, with my excessively nasal voice and gasping because I still sorta have to breathe through my mouth, which is UBER sexy. I've had my two least-favorite reps call me today, I've dealt with car dealers, and everything's been handled at a very high volume with an undercurrent of "wheeze". Interestingly, I'm more inclined to talk to those who annoy when I'm sick, mostly because I seem to have lost my filter, and I say whatever in hell I want.

At one point, I even expounded on the remarkable ability of football players because not only do they have to memorize all their plays/maneuvers? They get knocked down and hurt and STILL come back and remember where they're supposed to run. I'm not saying they should get Nobel Peace Prizes or nothin', but I know if someone clotheslined me in the parking garage, I sure as hell wouldn't remember where I was going, let alone what the F-12 running play involved. That and I have to have "offsides kick" re-defined for me every season. Sigh. I wish I could blame the cold, but it's just plain empty-headedness. I do have the hand signal for HOLDING down pat though.

So, I'm a-brayin' and feeling a bit more cheerful. Tired as a mule (don't even call me an ass) and for god's sake, don't ever call me Jenny.