Pain, pain, and more pain

There is one reader that may feel me on this one. Before I get ahead of myself, let me lay it out for you.

I’m in my office (no not now… I’m laying out the scene from earlier today), which isn’t normally such a bad thing… but I’d been away from it under the direst of circumstances: the dreaded sinus infection (with just a pinch of bronchitis for flavor). Due to various allergies and sensitivities, I’m down to one class of antibiotics in the bacterial sinus infection arsenal – and it tends to make me a little sick to my stomach. So I’m in my office, work piled up to my inferior nasal conchae (which of course begs the obvious question: “which is plural, ‘conchae’ or ‘concha?'”), I’m a little sick to my stomach, the air conditioning is out in my building, the morning sun (with an assist going to the heat running a full bore inferno) is heating things to a balmy 87 degrees (the way our buddy Dan would have measured them), and my sinuses are doing their impression Stomp.

That’s the lay of the land.

That’s when I got a call from a friend asking me if I wanted to go to a hockey game tonight. (Which is going to a frigging shoot-out as I type!)

I don’t know about you, but I tend to make this long humming sound when my mind and my mouth don’t agree on a thing to say. Call it “mind to mouth feedback” if you will, or not… I really don’t care one way or the other. Anyway, I did a lot of humming before I came to an answer.

I said no.

There is no sane reason why this decision should have been hard. I should be sleeping right now, content that I made the right call. Instead I’m wide awake in a dark room, hunched over a computer, clicking the refresh button on my browser because I don’t have a stinking AM radio and the live stream peetered out on my ^&%%$#! internet connection; not to mention the @^%**&! game wasn’t on TV.

Other than that I feel great.

I see that the Lightning won it in the shootout, so that’s something I guess.

Give the gift of words.