(With a nod of the hat to Jon Astin’s character on Night Court).
I have recovered, which is to say that I am mostly upright and relatively cogent. I am still a bit dizzy and tire easily, but the current plan is to keep me functional and ride the virus through. I'm on a drug called meclizine, which has the added value of sounding like "mescaline", and creates drymouth drowsiness, and inadvertant sarcasm. I’m not a great fan of the way I’m feeling, but it is an extreme improvement over the way I was on Friday.
I would have passed this along sooner, but now that I am on the mend, of course, my home Internet connection is out of whack. The lovely bride swears it has nothing to do with the fact that she was moving around on the roof working on the front overhang, but the TV feed is also on the fritz, and the Comcast rep is supposed to show up on Friday. Until then, I have been thrown back to the prehistoric days of the 1980s, where the only thing my home machines talked to were themselves.
And I say that in advance to anyone who wonders why I’m not responding. I'm posting from the office, and am a bit irritated by spending “job-time” on things other than “the job”. This particular writeup is being written the night before (actually, I have a bunch of them backing up), and I will schlep in my portable tomorrow to get it uploaded.
But while you’re here, you might as well continue on to Jason’s page, where he is talking about the 250 things that Mr. Welch can no longer do during an RPG.
More later (once I get a server once again)
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