I'm fighting diligently everyday but I can detect something big and nasty on the horizon. Something bigger than my puny immune system, something stronger than a dose of NyQuil, something thicker and more viscous than last year's bloody phlegm-a-thon. I'm slowly and surely getting sick and there's nothing I can do about it! Damn! And thanks to this flu shot shortage bullshit, I have decided to go sans-vaccination for the first year in a decade or so. Oh well, maybe a day spent at home in bed with a nice bowl of soup will do me some good.
Now onto tired. At the end of this month, I will be going on a Match.com sabbatical. I need a break from the hillbillies who wink at me and email me. I'm fairly specific on what I'm looking for in a fella: 27-32, at least a bachelor's degree, no children, impeccable grammar, no obivious interest in NASCAR or wrestling. I seem to be a magnet for every single guy in a 30 mile radius who doesn't fall into ANY of these catergories. And let me tell ya, there's very little in this world worse than opening an email and seeing a short, fat, bald (yet hairy in all the wrong places) 40-something guy posed "seductively" in a wife-beater carnie undershirt. Yick. So, unless a miracle occurs, I'll be taking a break from the online social life.