Well, the cold has died out to a dull back-of-the-throat throbbing, threatening to break out again at any moment, overwhelming my entire system and reducing me to a mere stain of protoplasmic ooze on my carpet. Every moment of the day, I'm having to constantly remind myself that the slightest slip up, a missed vitamin, a denied glass of water, could end my existence as I know it. I now live in a shuddering twilight world between useful functioning and exploding into phlegm particulate, coating the surroundings and any bystanders with the goopey remains of my once-proud body, now a sticky residue of once-Jason. The fear of succumbing to the cold gnaws at my very being. I jump at shadows and the slightest rumblings, thinking each is a portent of the virus coming for what's left of my sanity.

So, normality.

While all this has been going on, summer's been breathing its last. It's still warm out, maybe even a bit much, but you can tell that Summer's heart has gone out of it. It's going through the motions, but it knows that soon fall will be here in all its glory. Out with the air conditioners, in with the stylish jackets. Soon, to the despair of millions of men, boobies all over this fair city will begin retreating back into their protective shells for the winter. And thus continues the great circle of boobie life.

Ah, hmmm. Sorry, it's the brain-fever talking.

My end-of-summer soundtrack of new (to me) music which I've been enjoying greatly:
The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
The Raveonettes
Sufjan Stevens
Kaiser Chiefs

I actually discovered the Kaiser Chiefs purely due to their advertising, which was everywhere in London. Each underground station I was in had a smattering of posters for their first CD, Employment. Thanks, advertising!

Um... I do have more to say. But first I think I'm going to get some food or something. You know, before I die.