Leave it to me to sing the praises of cold weather one day and end up sick with a thick old head cold the next.
I feel like my head is full of cotton candy that's sat rotting in the mud for days after the carnival closed and all the freaky carnies have long since gone bumping down the road in their garish wagons. I feel like my nose is stuffed with that quick dry spray foam that they use to make fake rocks on stage in the theater. I feel like I can't come up with one more silly simile without my skull crashing down against the hard, uncaring surface of my desk.
Snore. Sorry guys, I've got nothing for you today, but I still love you all (no energy for exclamation points though).