The headache kept me from working yesterday. It kept me from pretty much everything. I managed a bath late in the afternoon. The bright spot was a package that arrived from Subterranean Press, a copy of Tim Richmond's Fingerprints in the Sky: The Authorized Harlan Ellison Bibliography. There was leftover Thanksgiving lasagna for dinner. Tiddly pom.
Today, I wish I were in Athens or Atlanta, Birmingham or Leeds, or on a fast train to any of those places. Just not here.
1:47 p.m. (this morning)