I think it must’ve been something I ate the other day. My guts are in an uproar, and I just stare at nooze items as if they were unusually-colored lobsters.
Don’t expect much out of me today; there just isn’t that much there. Maybe I can summon up the energy to do some work on my book. Leaves have begun to turn, I’ve only got about two months left in which to finish writing it. Better get busy.