Now that's just not fair.

No fooling myself anymore. Why did I have to get a cold now? I hate colds. The only thing worse than a stuffed-up head is six of them.

And I'm probably contagious, which just cuts right down on all sorts of things I was hoping to do more of this week, darnit . . .

eh, well, better this week than last week, I'm one less kind of idiot this week, which has its compensations--Kitty? Light of my life? If I beg nicely would you make me some chicken soup and come keep me non-contagious kinds of company? I promise I won't sneeze on you.

. . . y'know, I wonder if Dr. McCoy could set us up with more than one mood thing on this thing, I'm barely ever in just one at a time.