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I spent much of Monday and parts of Tuesday in a coma. Lisa suggested it was like I had gone to an opium den for a couple days, only without the hookahs and oriental carpets and Johnny Depp lazily staring up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out how to catch Jack the Ripper. Or something like that. No hallucinations, however, just lots and lots of dreamless unconsciousness.

Today I am well enough to go back to work, which is a Classic mixed blessing. It's not so bad for the most part; if I sit, I'm fine, and the horizon's no longer shifting no matter how I move my head. But standing is still no fun, mainly because I'm fatigued. Weary. Really really tired.

There are those of you out there who have done things on a grand scale, and those of you who've done things on a small scale but still important to you. I salute each and every one of you, even if I can't be bothered to track down linkage (remember, I'm very tired).