It's a depressing moment when you are contemplatively stroking the whiskers on you chin and realize that you have to shave that chin way, way more often than you have to shave your head.

In other, totally unrelated news, the snot fairy paid me another visit late Thursday night, just days after I finally rid myself of her last, lingering gift. I have been in bed since Friday and it's only been getting worse. I was feeling fine up until my dinner with D on Thursday, but shortly afterward began an accelerated albeit unpleasant attempt to drown myself in my own mucus. Normally I would blame her, but since I had such a good time at dinner, we have decided to blame Donald Rumsfeld instead. I'm not sure just why this viral infection of my nasal cavities is his fault, but certainly there is no good reason why it couldn't be.