Well, I’m thinking I should probably lay in a year’s supply of Sudafed Cold & Cough Liquigels and just start popping them like M&M’s. The amount of business development stuff I’ve actually accomplished this afternoon has been amazing—in between sneezing, blowing my nose, and hunting for clean tissues, I’ve emailed a whole slew of people on freelance leads, switched over my old pre-2001 Quark-based identity to the spiffy new InDesign version Jen designed for me (with rollout on the website to come), done two hour’s research for a consulting client, invoiced another job, and cleaned off the to-do list in front of me. All without succumbing to the siren call of NetNewsWire or Craigslist or the internets in general. It must be the pseudoephedrine or something. Unfortunately, the pills I took at 9AM wore off at about 4PM, because that’s when my nose-faucet started running again, so I’m back to a cycle of blow nose, sneeze, blow nose, sniffle, blow nose, sneeze, repeat.
It was because of this mucousy hell last night that I took two tablespoons of off-brand NyQuil at 9PM, and it felled me like an elephant gun—one minute I was talking coherently, and the next I was grunting at Jen as I passed out on the bed. I can’t say it does anything for sleep, though; I was half-awake at 3 AM having spacey, rambling dreams about aliens and my old neighborhood in New Jersey, and I suddenly woke up with a crystal-clear solution for a UI project I’m working on. It’s funny what cold medicine will do to the subconscious.
An entry Jason wrote reminded me to post a few of the pictures from our trip to the salvage warehouse a few weeks ago. I’ve been remiss on my Flickr duties lately, so I’ll have to get back on the job. Sorry, folks.