Can't tell is this is a man or a woman? Well, you couldn't tell if you got a look at me right now, either.

For someone with compromised common sence immunity, I rarely get stuffy-nose, cough-a-lung-up sick. Maybe it’s because I cloister myself in my home and only see people on Friday night when they’re all liquored up and their germs are drowned. So my 10-day losing battle with a head-cold that turned into a vile sinus infection has me left me lifeless useless an unkempt mess of a former person buried in soggy tissues.

Okay, so I'm not buried in soggy tissues. But it's bad. Real bad. Buy stock in Puffs.

But this post isn’t about eliciting pity from you, although that would be nice; it’s about alerting you to what I’ve been up to in my crippled condition and what’s coming up in the near future–“near” being entirely dependent on how effective these drugs medications are in alleviating my misery.

  1. Dark Globe invited me to be a guest author. I wrote a post that was published today (1/6/12), so you can click here and check it out as well as other posts written by winners of their Outstanding Artists of the Year Contest.
  2. Thanks to the much-lauded and overly generous Aurora of Auroramorealist and wonderful Magnet for Foolishness, I’ve been showered with more awards–some old, some new. You’ll notice them on the right side of my page. In my fuzzy-headnedness due to my normal state of being and whatever concoction of chemicals zipping around my innards, I can’t keep all the “rules” straight for all the various awards. I know for sure I need to thank these fine bloggers for including me in their list of deserve-ees. (I know that’s not a word, but if you can’t make up words here and you’re not G.W. Bush, where else can you make up words and get away with it?) The Rudolph Award is special and needs it’s own post. That will be forthcoming.
  3. Before I complete my life story, I have to die I have to tell you about my mother’s side of the family. So be prepared for several more memoir-style installments from the vaults of my memories. Because those memory vaults feel like they’re filled with soggy cotton right now, I’ll wait a while. These are stories that deserve to be told well.

I’m trying to read and comment on all your posts, but you are bloggers on speed you are a prolific bunch of bloggers and I’m having a hard time keeping up (what with having to close my eyes every time I sneeze). If you feel like I’m shortchanging you, you’re in great company. Scrappy is currently putting up an ad on “PetFinders” for another home because he feels so ignored.

No cats. Definitely no bloggers.

If you don’t hear from in a few days, don’t panic. I’m just planning for my memorial service. Priorities, and so many details, you know…

I'd like a simple affair. Just family and close friends. Maybe someone could read my entire collection of blog posts...