Bring out the dead

I can hear the trolley squeaking by my office door. The mail girl is yelling as she passes each office, "Bring out the dead! Bring out the dead!". Maybe I should just toss myself onto the mail cart as it squeals by...

...

Yup, I am still sick. I feel as if I have the black plague or something nasty of that nature. And yes, I went into work today. Why, you ask? Because I am sick of laying in bed at home watching boring TLC shows about pregnancies and breast feeding.

Anyways, my good friend Steve, who is married to my favouritest gal pal, Sandra (who stopped by my office for a second today - I hope I didn't infect her), sent me this, which made my coming into work to check my emails worth while:

Toodles,

CG

Blech

What does it mean when you have swollen glands? Is that a sign of a viral infection, or just a plain ol' cold?

Fuck, I feel miserable.

This is CG heading back to bed.