The Stars and the Cookie Jar

So I went to sleep around 4 PM (it was Hour Twelve at that point) and have just now woken up, and all my honorable intentions for the evening are shot to crap. I am going directly back to bed.

Apparently I have been attacked by Son of Whatever Crawled Up From The Storm Drain and Ate Sonya's Immune System: burning cough, chills, fever, elephant dancing on chest. And they have nasty damn things living in the storm drains at Yale. Or at least, I imagine things using the storm drains as a convenient door onto the back patio for to enjoy a cool mint julep...

(a long-disused ballroom at Yale was where I happened to learn that ghosts are real, ghosts are real, out of my way, see ya, bye...)

Oh, wow. This came on fast. (groan)

Write things. I'm an invalid.