After a couple days, the antibiotics stopped making me feel like a sack of drowned puppies on Christmas, but I was still glad to be finishing them on Sunday. Now I'm into the expungement stage, where my lungs attempt to purge themselves of the crap that's making them about as productive as a college student with a laptop and wireless internet in the middle of a three-hour lecture on the socioeconomic impact of potatoes on the Napoleonic regime. I'm coughing a lot. Because it seems like that's the only way for the lungs to get rid of any crap you've foolishly filled them with. The thing about this coughing thing is that I get to enjoy the delicious taste of pneumonia junk. It's fantastic. A little bit like puking blood. Blood that's curdled like six-month-old milk. Solid yet gooey. And it's a taste that lasts and lasts. I just can't get enough. The other cool thing is that the coughing has loosened everything up, so it's even harder to breathe than it was when I went to the doctor because I woke up choking in the middle of the night.

On another note, I accidentally switched to the new beta version of blogger. Yes, I know. And yes, really. It was an accident. But the point is that the new beta version hates me and my template. So commenting doesn't work right now. Don't even try it. It will only leave you feeling empty and alone. Like me.

I'll let you know when everything's working again. In the meantime, you can shoot an email to rob[dot]wordwriter[at]gmail[dot]com.