Andrea let me go home an hour early, because having a coughing, sneezing,
tiny chicken hatching individual in a library is a bad idea. Turns out she had the right idea, because 45 minutes later I was stumbling from a lack of balance, achy, and semi-deliriously talking to a bird standing in front of my car in the Albertsons parking lot. I then came home, yelled at the stove, and laughed out loud at a joke I had cracked in my own head. .
Yeah, it's time for Nyquil and a nap.