Hi.
Today I’m so sick that basic life skills have begun to elude me. After spending 20 minutes wondering why this cold should be making me so dizzy I can barely see, then stripping down to my tshirt and underwear because there was sweat dripping down the back of my neck, I realized the problem: hypoglycemia. The cold makes me not very hungry, I forget to eat, my blood sugar drops, and I end up staggering around the house half-naked and confused. I’ve had some oatmeal now and the pants are back on. All is well. I tried not to take it personally, but my officemates were less than happy to see me this morning. Michael opted to work from home, hoping to not transmit my killer virus to his baby. Micci refused to cross an invisible contamination zone between my desk and hers. She helped me troubleshoot from afar, and was visibly relieved when I announced creakily that I was going home to die. I’m feeling a little better now, mostly because I’ve tossed the viral hot potato to Heather. Serves her right after insisting that I was not going to die, just go blind. In other news, I’ve been taking some flak for implying that there are no web folks here in Minneapolis. That’s not exactly true, but still. What I mean is that it’s not like in San Francisco, where you throw a rock and kill two bloggers, and seventeen others have posted firsthand accounts within the hour. Here you actually have to seek them out. I’ve been knitting quite a bit during my sick days, and was very excited to finish my felted bag today. It’s not perfect, but it’s my first real project from knitting class. And it looks good. I’ll take pictures of my various creations once fresh batteries materialize inside my camera. Maybe tonight. Maybe Tonight: The Jenni Ripley Story. Coming direct to video in April. Yep.Jenni