Had I been drinking, I'd suspect a hangover. Headache, nausea, all that.
Unfortunately, there was no drinking; there was a lot of napping and
websnurfing, a little movie watching, and a great deal of fever-pitch
attempting to plot a deeper story around a couple of events. I think I
keyed into something while I was sleeping that had to do with demons and
chaos, and I think the bastards had a little party in my brain.
Mr. X and Mr. Y have conferred, and seem to be impressed with my skills.
This bodes well for the work-at-home gig, possibly even being able to
work it into a schedule with other things.
Iowa now has pseudoephedrine behind the counter, which means that I now
have to speak with the pharmacist to get cold medication. Which is a
bonus, because she's kind of a geek hottie, and I am quite charming.
I don't think I could ever date my pharmacist. She sees me at my worst--
there's nothing really romantic about Preparation H and earwax remover--
but I do like the geek hottie thing. It makes me happy in my pants. And
frankly, trouser joy is one of my main goals in life.