Yesterday, I was still pretty much feeling like Count Crapula, but we decided to get the downstairs of the house in as much order as we could, because we have a realtor coming this afternoon to meet with us about the rental of the other side of the house when our tenants move out at the end of the month. We got a heck of a lot done, and the downstairs now actually bears some resemblance to a normal house. There was a bad moment when the vacuum began to smoke when I turned it on to clean an area rug, but other than that, no biggie.

Then we decided to go and get some dinner. Big mistake on my part, even though I only had some soup and a bit of a salad. As soon as we got home, I started feeling ill again. I listened to an hour or so of Disintegrator Radio, but I couldn't make it to the end. I took some of my anti-ickiness prescription and crashed.

This morning, I'm working. I had to do my goals for this year for a meeting with Le Boss tomorrow morning, and I have a conference call at 4 today (yes, on a Sunday) with a regulatory person from the company with which we're copromoting one of our new products about a training session I'm giving on Thursday to our sales reps. She works for the company I was visiting in San Francisco at the beginning of January, and I'm using a lot of her slides for the presentation, so hopefully this call will be a quick runthrough of the slides and an ability for me to clarify a few questions that I have.

Tonight, we have tickets for the Devils game, in which they will probably be thoroughly trounced by the Buffalo Sabres. They are just utterly awful this season. Awful. Embarrassing.

Anyway. Oh, right, my mom. I had almost forgotten.

I was supposed to go home to Pennsylvania this weekend, both to see Marie and her new son Nathan and to go to a "girls' brunch" with my mom and our usual group of old friends. Needless to say, I have way too much on my plate to head home for a day and a half, and I also didn't want to get anyone sick with this Virus from the Depths of Hell. When I called my mother to let her know yesterday, she pulled the usual passive-aggressive bitchy act that I had fully expected, and even made the comment that it was completely unreasonable of me not to come down, because I actually had the nerve to go to work this past Friday. She drives me up a tree, I tell you. It's like the end of the world is coming because I'm not going to be there to eat croissants and make small talk with women with whom I have nothing in common, not to mention the fact that I wasn't any too excited about making a two-hour drive to do so.

Argh. I just hope this week is better. At least there will be figure skating.