I’m ill today. It started on Thanksgiving with the tell-tale sign that my normal once-in-a-blue-moon cough was occurring with greater frequency. My voice started getting raspy on Friday. My nap Friday night prior to a visit to Number’s Night Club was not a good one. I tried to make the best of the eveningn while I was there. I met a few friends and made some cool new ones. Despite my sickened state, my wing-man and I departed around midnight (after his drink was done) for The Red Door. This place is off Brazos and Louisiana and one other street… that… I can’t remember the name of. The door to the club is red. Isn’t that a clever name? Beside my small group of friends that were waiting for us, I didn’t like the crowd. They sucked. Nobody was alternative enough for me. I suddenly wished I hadn’t pulled off my Number’s wristband so I could head back. We left around 1:30 AM. I drove home and crashed. In my bed. Duh. The next morning I knew I was full-on sick. An aborted workout at noon settled it. However, I’m kinda-sorta okay at the moment. I’m back at the Starbucks on West Road and 249 with the plan that I’ll go through all my mail from the last two months. Riiiight. I like to look at the giant pile and wonder if I will do it. I don’t know why I retain any of this paper stuff. I should send it all to my paperless post office box, but I’ve been so damn lazy to switch over all of my addressing that I haven’t gone through with it yet. One day. Not today. Sick today. Going to save this and eat the other half of my Starbucks Turkey and Havarti sandwhich. Mmmm. Holla.