Burned Out
I think what's happened is that the Great Stress of the last month (which is entirely different than the Great Stress of the last six months, which remains None of Your Business) has pushed my body over the edge and I'm now a victim of my own bad self. Exhausted, grumpy, sort of stumbling around like a drunkard, tummy-aching, stuffy nose, sore shoulders and all, I'm ready to collapse, a gelatinous mass in front of the portable air conditioner that Andrea was amazing enough to score from her office last fall.

May that gentle hum bring forth a boundless supply of cool air and help my tired body repair itself. After all, I have a game on Wednesday.