Meme, via f4f3 et al

On the twelfth day of Christmas, morgaine_x sent to me...

Twelve textiles drumming

Eleven antiques piping

Ten bats a-leaping

Nine accents dancing

Eight pubs a-smoking

Seven tattoos a-talking

Six chiles a-cooking

Five pu-u-u-ub quizzes

Four starry nights

Three hippie clothes

Two janny wurts

...and a velvet in a scott goudie.

Get your own Twelve Days:

oh.

Ahmet Ertegun dead.

that's exactly it.

My position mirrors Snoopy's.

The cold is abating, although I still feel rather drained, at least the sneezing & coughing is dying down. My poor nose is terribly red, looks like I'm auditioning for Rudolf's role - at leats three layers of skin have peeled off it. Owowowow....

Made it through the day, went to the hairdresser's which was fun & relaxing (he is such a sweetie), came home, ate, and am now giving up. I am not sorry tomorrow is both Friday and payday (I just did a transfer to cover the cost of the hairdo and it was ouch all the way.)

The apartment is a mess, but I haven't felt up to anything more than the most basic all week. The prospect of the Xmas break is more appealing every second.