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Friday, January 09, 2004
 
Kamikaze Held Hostage: Week Four
And the flu lingers on. The Sturm und Drang of days ago has died down to general lethargy, an annoying sinus pressure on one (mostly clear) side of my head, and residual phlegm in my lungs that is just hanging on . . . fighting to avoid being coughed up. What kills me is that I love Winter . . . big time. And my enjoyment of it is being eaten up by a wide array of viruses.

So, here I am, on a dreary North Florida afternoon: Watching the sporadic drizzle outside and wishing it was snow. Choking down (all too literally) a Centrum to keep up with at least one of my goddamn resolutions. Turning off my radio when I hear another one of those seemingly countless Santana “collaborations.” Lashing out at the overpaid office assistant who brought me petty and unnecessary changes to a document I thought was long, long gone . . . even though it wasn’t her fault or her problem. Mourning my fantasy basketball team (yes, the Angry Dragons) for their current 11th place (out of 12) standing. Chuckling to myself that our band was chosen as the Band of the Month at this website, and now we have an interview set up with them for tomorrow. Trying to keep myself energized enough to type this entry, but not so energized that I feel like doing a bunch of work. Wondering what’s going on over at ABC Daytime . . . y’know, their fine afternoon programming . . . All My Children, One Life to Live, and General Hospital.

Will Bianca tell her mother that she’s the one carrying the baby of the murdered rapist, Michael, and not her half-sister, Kendall? Will Todd again be convicted of committing rape, this time against his own wife? And will Carly really shoot Alcazar, or is she going to profess her “undying” love for him?

Bzzzzzzt.

Tune in next week. I’ll strive for humanity over the weekend. You do the same.