I have to say, I really don’t know how I got this page done, and it’s a stunt I hope not to have to repeat anytime soon. I spent more than half my weekend on what amounted to a wild goose chase through Brooklyn – by car, no less – to meet up with a bunch of people who spent most of the day talking about themselves and chain-smoking. This was followed by a rather hellish run to JFK Airport in the rain, on what proved to be an insanely busy night. Top that with what seems to be food poisoning of some kind (plus the blazing headache I had from second-hand smoking two packs of cigarettes), and, well, you get the picture. It was not the kind of weekend I normally like to have. Although, special thanks are due to Mike, whose presence was a redeeming factor to my ill-fated trip to Brooklyn, and Ken, who was kind enough to pay the tolls and fuel besides when I came to get him at the airport, when I was quite willing to consider it a civic duty.
But, in any case, I’m sick to my stomach, nursing a dreadful headache, have utterly lost my appetite and am subsisting on soup and gatorade, and yet, somehow, I got the page done. I do hope it isn’t too melodramatic, but, I mean… I’m allowed to have a scene like this after all that, aren’t I?
Oy vey. Well, I’m off to bed. I don’t know why it’s been such a gigantic succession of irritating problems for me lately, but what can one do but keep plugging? All the best, folks.