I'm still hacking my head off. My voice is all deep and gravelly and sexy. I can sing lower notes now. Well, for the 30 seconds before I have a coughing fit. I forgot to take my Flonase last night, so I'm having a bit of a relapse today. I also didn't run a humidifier last night because the carpet was still damp from the "cool mist" one I stopped using. I don't care what the Walgreen's pharmacists says, the steam ones are better. I'm seriously thinking of going home.

I'm thinking of taking an air cleaner to work. I seem to breathe easier as soon as I walk in the door at home. I've got a huge kick ass air cleaner in the living room, and just bought a smaller one of the same brand for the bedroom. I'll have to ask my boss if there'd be any problems with that. With the environment at work as it is now, we have to watch our Ps and Qs - no more flying under the radar, it seems.

Jeff suggested that maybe the trees were plotting revenge on the developers that are levelling all the forests by increasing the quantity and/or effect of the pollen every year. He said maybe he should talk to some scientists. Um, yeah. I told him to be sure he uses the red phone.

And now I'm home. I talked to my doctor, and he was supposed to have an antibiotic and some cough medicine called in to my pharmacy. It hadn't been at 2:30 when I went there on my way home. I again balked at the suggestion of antibiotics, but he said that at this point, I should be feeling better. The fact that I'm not and have been taking Allegra, Flonase, Robitussin, and Tylenol could mean my sinuses are infected or something. That could explain the molasses-like consistency of the phlegm I'm expelling. It could be some sort of industrial grade adhesive or something.

Fuck. I guess I'll try to keep my chiropractor appointment, too. He's supposed to start some sort of traction tonight to help correct the alignment and curvature of my neck. I feel like shit, though.

More war commentary from Metallica:

Bodies fill the fields I see,
hungry heroes end
No one to play soldier now,
no one to pretend
Running blind through killing fields,
bred to kill them all
Victim of what said should be
A servant `til I fall

Soldier boy, made of clay
now an empty shell
twenty one, only son

but he served us well
Bred to kill, not to care
just do as we say
finished here, Greeting Death
he's yours to take away

Back to the front
you will do what I say, when I say
Back to the front
you will die when I say, you must die
Back to the front
you coward
you servant
you blindman
Barking of machinegun fire,
does nothing to me now
sounding of the clock that ticks,
get used to it somehow
More a man, more stripes you bare,
glory seeker trends
bodies fill the fields I see
the slaughter never ends...

Why, Am I dying?
Kill, have no fear
Lie, live off lying
Hell, Hell is here

I was born for dying

Life planned out before my birth,
nothing could I say
had no chance to see myself,
molded day by day
Looking back I realize,
nothing have I done
left to die with only friend
Alone I clench my gun...

Back to the front.