I definitely am coming down with a cold. My throat hurts, my nose is running, and I'm going through a box of tissues at a prodigous rate. For some strange reason this has put me into an excellent mood. I'm more relaxed this afternoon than I've been during work in recent memory. I theorised to Heather (who I saw briefly online) that being sick lets me be more forgiving of myself. It's true, I think.

I haven't picked up DownBelow Station since Earl left on Sunday, but I do keep thinking about it. I'm still surprised at how very depressing it was; here we have a society which is completely falling apart, which is being overwhelmed by refugees from the bits which have already fallen apart, which cannot possibly maintain the ideal of rule-by-law when it has nine thousand new people dumped on it in one afternoon... oh, it's marvelously depressing. I think I'm going to be on a huge Cherryh kick for quite a while.

And that's it. Being sick saps my willpower.