So I have been mildly sick for about two weeks, but yesterday it took a turn for the worse. I'm tempted to put a picture of The Tick battling The Common Cold again, but I already posted that once before. It will have to suffice that I'm pretty miserable, and I've probably blown my nose 200 times in the last day and a half. The word frustration doesn't really do my feelings justice since I have less than two weeks left here in Laramie. Those healthy goodbyes will have to pour out in a steady stream.
Only 12 days left, then on to New York to visit mis abuelos (grandparents, pretty good, huh?), then on to Philly for a night, then on to Spain. There are so many people to see and spend time with, not to mention the fact that I need to pack and organize 25 years worth of crap at my Dad's house. I'm a bit overwhelmed, if you can't tell. But, as soon as I recover I can spend 24 hours a day doing all that, right? Right. The most disappointing thing about my condition is probably that my Fu Manchu hasn't had opportunity to strut around town and pick up chicks. I'll have to go down to the bowling alley to make up for it. The awesome, raw attraction that members of the opposite sex feel when they see my manly manchu moustache is best summed up by the song, 'Stray Cat Strut.'
"I don't bother chasing mice around
I slink down the alley looking for a fight
Howling to the moonlight on a hot summer night
Singin' the blues while the lady cats cry,
'Wild stray cat, you're a real gone guy.'"
I'm a real gone guy.
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