When you're sick you get asked how you're feeling a lot. And frankly, I'm not sure. I was a little worried yesterday about all the coughing, but the main thing I was worried about seems to have gone away on its own. Now I'm relying on Delsym, cough drops, and a lot of water to see me through. The only thing on my schedule today is a lot of rest, television, and trying not to cough. Though that sounds like I actually wrote that in my schedule somewhere, and I didn't. It's the schedule in my mind.

Yesterday was a long day. There was a big meeting and then I got my hair highlighted and then Jer and I went to his company Christmas party, which reminded me of a high school prom -- if my prom were in a very large conference room/banquet hall. On the plus side they had mini corn dogs. On the minus side there were a lot of people. I think there are about 500 at his company -- they didn't all show but still, add the ones that did to their dates and you've got a lot of people. And Jer works in an isolated area so he knew about five of them. Also, we arrived late and missed out on the drink tickets. But, eh. I shouldn't be drinking anyway, at least according to the warnings on the back of the cough syrup.

This was kind of funny: almost everyone we spoke to casually mentioned last year they'd had an open bar. They said this with a wistful expression and a half-smile, often recalling drunken shenanigans, men and women passed out in the halls, inappropriate dancing, the stuff of company legend... Then their face and eyes got hard, "But not this year. This year we have drink tickets." And I felt them die a little inside.

So it's the next morning, as it goes, and since I didn't shower when I got home, my face is still makeup-ed and my hair is full of hairspray. I feel like I should be stumbling back to my apartment on the cold, dark streets in evening wear before my roommates wake up. Not that I ever did that before...