Pollen has been making my immune system paranoid and oversensitive (bringing it into line with the rest of my personality), resulting in the usual tedious misery. How mundane it is, if my happiness is to be compromised I'd rather it were for more interesting reasons. My friend M arrives later for a weeklong visit. I intend to stay indoors and heavily drugged until he gets here, in hopes of being in decent shape for his arrival. Let's face it, I'm not the best host even when I feel tip top, and right now it's hard to type because tears are streaming down my face in a histamine jamboree.

Look, I feel so crappy I can't even write decently. It's not like I don't have the material. Here are two lines I would've normally turned into funny bits:

1. Treaties, the breakfast cereal of the United Nations.
2. "Epileptics seize the day": one in a series of empowering bumper stickers.

But now, in my poor physical condition, they just sit there unused. You often hear about productivity losses due to illness, but what about all the unwritten words, the unexpressed quips? You can't get quip insurance, as far as I know.