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- I put together all the things I wrote over the last month about being sick. If I die from this pertussis it will read like a tragic, tragic screenplay. Hopefully the scientists who are assigned to study my death will find it helpful. Who wants to hear about how sore my torso is? No one? Okay, okay, I suppose we should move on. I put together a to-do list today, things I've been putting off for perhaps the last two weeks or so, or at least the last week and a half. One of the items is writing back to my favorite band from Seattle (but, not Pearl Jam) who wrote back to me after I wrote to them telling them to come play here. They wrote back two weeks ago! What kind of asshole doesn't respond to their favorite band? What kind of asshole? Me. They said they wanted to come play here and could I help set something up and so I ended the communication. They're probably sitting at a bar right now wondering what they did wrong. Also on my list is to stop being such a jerk. That was written with an exclamation point. Did my radio show today for the first time in four weeks. I always forget how powerful I am. This time, I walked over to the studio without my fleece because it was warm and sunny. I played quiet, mellow songs, and pulled a storm in. I walked back to work shivering in the spitting snow. I need to remember my influence on the weather and plan accordingly. I wasn't necessarily ready to go back on the air - I was being a little coughy and my voice was all coughy weak and sickly tremulous. Okay, I'm going to go sit in the hot tub now to soak my incredibly painfully sore torso and BROKEN RIB.
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