Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

As I posted that last entry, I had an inkling that the tickle in the back of my throat would turn into something a little more. I’m currently writing this from my bed, bundled up in piles of blankets. Woohoo! Three day weekend, right? I hate to say it, but it doesn’t work that way anymore. As a young adult, I’ve gained some sense of responsibility. It’s horrible, but I’d rather be at work now getting things done than sick at home.

Still, the day is young. Maybe I will go steal my friend’s dad’s Ferrari and play grand marshall of a parade.