Actually, I was aiming at the glistening philtrum and intranasal depression that resulted from a super hot shower and the application of Vic's Vapor-Rub on my upper lip. I told my mom who called to check up on me, Vic's and manly facial hair do not mix - in fact, it is gross. So, I shaved. Didn't plan on it, and the goatee will be back in 48 hours, but I knew I couldn't have another night like the last one. I need a good 7-hour, uninterrupted sleep.
I'm going to fight this post-holiday yuck and win. I am determined.
I was unable to run, but Glamis and I did a 6-mile hike (I can't stand being cooped up in my house and it's nice to see human beings getting fresh air, albeit frigid). My brain was good for most of the day but at 5 p.m., sunset, the sinuses began to drain. Maybe snot follows moon cycles and is aligned with wave patterns. There doesn't seem to be a problem during daylight, but as soon as it is dark the wheezing begins, the cough comes back, and the fog behind my eyeballs begins to push its way out.
I guess the good news was that, being stuck under a blanket for most of the day, resulted in several completed conference proposals I knew needed to get out this week, as well as materials for the MLK Convocation and essay award winners. This morning, too, I'm tackling recommendations with impeding due dates, reports for two grants, and the impossible tentacles of the University's Work Day, so that people can be paid and reimbursed, and items can be ordered and delivered. Looming are the syllabi for the semester, one for a course I've never taught and the other for one I'm more familiar with.
So, I need to be able to think today. And Nadia, if my eye wanders out to L.A. again, you know where to mail it. I'm still in Connecticut. If it comes to you, Christie, whack it back to me from Kentucky with one of your volleyball serves.
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