Oh, cat, don't fly away again. My head's killing me.

My co-workers yesterday were recommending that I take today off (or, in their words, "ew, stop coughing on us!"), so I did, and did I ever need it! I also needed DelSym, which I picked up at a CVS pharmacy last night. Got some good rest, but also got Cabin Fever, so I took myself in the car to get some Hot'n'Sour Soup. Being a man of limited culinary imagination, I went to a Panda Express for this.

This had some fun attached, partly in the fortune cookie that assured me A PHOTO DOESN'T CAPTURE YOUR CHARM, and I'm all, well, duh... but when I got back to my car, a couple were trying to get their two dogs to settle down in their pickup truck. The woman of the couple (yes, one of those couples) noticed me and, in mock outrage, said, "Where you taking my car, Mister Richard Dreyfuss?" By this she meant

1. She liked my car and wished she had one, and
2. She thought I looked like Richard Dreyfuss, the man who won the Best Actor Oscar that should have gone to Richard Burton, and
3. She had no respect for my emotional boundaries.

When I learned that her 50-pound pit bull was in heat, and it was all they could handle to keep their 10-pound male pug from going berzerk, and the pit bull had pink eye... well, you have to cut people slack when they're going through something like that.

Now I'm back home, and it's still 4 hours and 40 minutes until Lost. I can't think what I'll do with myself. Sleep?