Power Lines

Sitting under power lines watching a generator that attacked a man's arm and almost ate it this afternoon, I realized how much I miss Stephen King. And babbling. Not that I will suddenly babble or read another Stephen King novel, but I miss both. Naturally I will continue to be redundant in spite of everything. The day was long, monitoring random drug testing in the morning, responding to an emergency call in the afternoon, then sitting and waiting for the results of x-rays to determine how seriously the generator will be investigated. Luckily the man did not lose the arm, so the investigation will be in house within the department and likely cursory. Meanwhile, in spite of the massive thunderstorm, I still didn't die

I fell asleep shortly after arriving home, then woke 4 hours later and moaned a bit, pooped, wandered, ate some soup and later on, hot pockets, and now, here we are. I should try to sleep some more, but the hacking fits of previous nights have me cautious about laying down. I bought all sorts of cough drop things today, but left them all at work. Doh. Thirsty, but trying to dehydrate the nasal tubes, even if that is counter-productive for the overall cold-bug war. Sleep is the most important healing factor of all. Especially in the absence of caring.

In case in matters.

Narf.