I love Nyquil. It is

I love Nyquil. It is a beautiful, beautiful thing. It’s pretty and red! It tastes like cherries! It lets me sleep at night! All hail Nyquil!
I got up this morning with every intention of going to work. I felt a bit better, and wanted to go to my training class. So I got dressed, got in the car, drove to Starbucks…and as I sat in line at the drive-thru, I realized that I still feel like poo. The feeling-better thing I’d had when I woke up, alas, was temporary. As I sat in my car (the line was long), I decided that it was stupid to force myself to go to a training class when I feel bad and have more than 300 hours of sick time.
So I came back home. I’d feel like I was playing hooky if I weren’t having to concentrate so hard on breathing. And the tumor on the back of my head. (Buzz says it’s a swollen lymph node, and Nacho has assured me it’s not a tumor. But it’s still weird.)
I shouldn’t have done that 10-miler, I guess. I can see George shaking his head and saying I do too much…