the smack factor

Today I feel horrible.  I couldn’t sleep.  I have a really hot face.  Not hot like “do me” hot, but hot like “go get my mom to make a washcloth wet to put on my forehead” hot.  It’s cold out, but I’m really warm and slightly clammy.  There is a dull warmpf in my head and it won’t go away even when chased with coffee.  I’m about to hop in the shower and head up to my interview.  When I get back I shall:

• let you know how temping went - it turned around and was really nice.
• let you know how the interview went!
• Let you know if I honked on myself.

I think that whatever the chick who sneezed all over me at Dior had is now creeping into my soul.