Dec. 17th, 2008

gurdymonkey: (Default)
Throat feels like someone took coarse-grit sand paper to it. Head feels like a pumpkin filled with tapioca.
Got up long enough to call in sick at 6 AM.

Nancy called back at 8:15 to ask what I'd done with K__ D_____'s check. "You gave it to Dan yesterday to give to Mike, remember?" "Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry." 

Staggered downstairs to do a Dayquil shooter and use the loo.

Gah.

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