Beaten Down

I knew I shouldn't have even got out of bed on Wednesday. From the start I knew I had a cold. There was a foul taste in my mouth, a thick coating of mucus blocking off my throat, my skin was ultra-sensitive, my eyes were warm, my joints and muscles ached, and I had the beginnings of a headache. Went to work anyway, cause that's what I do, and the situation only worsened itself, with my headache becoming a whopper by the end of the work day. Went home and recieved a registered letter from the village of Clay City stating that my yard doesn't meet some arbitrary community standard, and if I don't get it mowed and weed eaten, then they'll do it for my and charge me out the nose. So, the entire drive to Olney I bellowing obscenities through a thick headache. Not surprisingly, when I arrived at the comic shop, it was closed for the second week in a row. Shoulda stayed in bed.