Sick on Thanksgiving? Yes, I apparently have caught some demon-virus from a random roaming viral jerk-face. Today is the first day I can speak without sounding like Pazuzu is eating through my vocal cords with glee and abandon.
So, my four days of reprieve from the lunatic horrors of Corporate America have turned into a marvel of sick bed angst. Yaye.
Once upon a time, I used to sing (shocking, I know. A singing homo. You might want to sit the rest of this one out if you are prone to heart palpitations). Since being sick transports me to Bizarro World, I am now a booming bass. Normally I have a good vocal range, but without use it has faded, and the upper and lower parts of my once sizable range have suffered. But let me tell you, in the shower this morning, I rocked Ol' Man River. But this was Ol' Man River as sung by the Rock Biter in the Neverending Story.