maypirate

Good morning everyone. What? What do you mean it's almost 8 pm? You mean I've spent nearly 9 hours asleep since I left work early this morning feeling ill? GOOD LORD, PEOPLE! Why would I do that?

I dunno, but I did.

Feel not good. My stomach is being lousy, and my throat feels weird, and my nose is stuffed and I don't seem to have a fever I just don't feel well. I actually did leave work 3 hours early because I was so tired and crappy feeling. And I get tomorrow off. Maybe by then I will be resurrected.

Don asks "What's it typing?"
And it says, "It's typing in its journal."

Because about 5 of those sleeping hours have been at the condo, where I finally um...saw my Keeboo, because I told him I'd come by after work and though I felt bad, it had been days since we'd murred at each other. And by "saw" I mean "went to sleep with." CHENYA, STOP SCREAMING! We slept like very pure Keeboos, and for a while I had to keep hitting Don in the side so he'd stop snoring.

Now you all know far too much.

Uhhhhhhhh now my head feels funny too and my nose is stuffed up and I'm sad that Bob's throat also hurts and I think I'll be heading home soon since Don says he's going to sleep until tomorrow and I should eat food and the condo is notoriously famous for not having other food except Quaker Oat squares. Well, I guess it's not notorious at all. I just said that.

Don has now wrapped a blanket around himself, which makes it look like he's sleeping in a cocoon.

I'm glad to know I drive an orange convertible. I'm sorry about the color, maybe it was the last one they had?

Ever'body hope that Amber and Bob feel better tomorrow, okay?