Well, the flu did its best to kill me dead, but I seem to still be here, so nuts to the flu. The office was a real plague ship on Thursday. I was half out of my mind with fever, and they came thisclose to renting an angel-with-burning-sword to get me to go home. The apartment is something of a mess, what with the blankets and used tissues and random crap laying about. My apartment is more a place for storing my books and crashing at night, than somewhere you'd want to be stuck in for long periods of time.

Bedding issues meant that I finally opened a Christmas gift from the relatives, and discovered that I had been gifted with a denim comforter for my bed. Denim. I guess they were out of sackcloth? Well, I suppose I exaggerate - for denim, it was remarkably soft and not-sack-cloth-ish. But it's still a coarse twillish sort of deal, where. I managed to soak the new bedsheets last night, so I suppose I'm gonna have to wash the whole load some time real soon now, anyways.