The Vicky Files: Search for sleeper defensemen
I'm suffering from a fairly meaty head cold.
Not ailing in the "want-to-die" fashion, just "lying-down-is-better-than-standing-up" sick. The simplest of tasks requires more effort than usual, and my face is full of unpleasant gooey matter fighting for escape. But don't worry, I'll live.
One truism about having an illness is, unless you're at death's door, nobody really cares much. Sure, your co-workers and friends will cluck sympathetically, but it's not as though it'll affect ...
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