...rolling like thunder under the covers indeed, and not in a good way

[coyotegoth]

On the average night at work, I can expect to get somewhere around half-a-dozen to a dozen jobs; at busy times like this one, thirty isn't unknown. And now, with me sitting here like a wrung-out washcloth as I recover from food poisoning, feeling as though I have the world's worst tequila hangover- only cubed- and with a skull and mouth that feel as though an army had been bivouacing in them, how many jobs do I have to trudge my way through before I can ooze my way home to bed...?


One. All three pages of it. it'll be here any minute.


Whew.