I hear they're talking about this, even in Gath and Ashkelon

[desperance]

I just want to tell you now, O internets - because it will very shortly be eclipsed by news even more exciting than this - that I do not feel well, and yet I have cleaned the kitchen floor anyway. On my hands and knees, because I would probably have felled over if I'd done it any other way. There's a reason for all those centuries of demented scrubbing: all fours keep you stable, so.

In other news, other news is coming. Much like winter, night and ice weasels.

In the meantime, I see a hot toddy in my immediate future. I hope only that I have enough lemons to see me through.*


*Actually I don't. I know I don't. This is a pathetically obvious passive-aggressive attempt to manipulate somebody into fetching more. For I am that sick, that I do not feel at all likely to walk over and pick 'em for myself.