I don't know if patheticness is a word, but if it is, I am the embodiment of it. Come to think of it, I must also be the personification of laziness if I refuse to click over to dictionary.com and find out if the aforementioned word is living between the covers of Websters. I feel pretty safe saying it doesn't. Live there, I mean.

Besides the sad lack of knowledge in the vocabulary department, I am currently sitting in my office with the lights out, wrapped in my warm fur collared coat, sniffling pathetically. Mind you, the fur collar adds a nice Cruella DeVille/eskimo touch. Still debating which sad character I learn more towards.

I speak in hushed whispers and am playing uncharactaristically bland music. I sipped on my weak tea and merely played with my soup. (I thought denying food and drink as a whole would be a touch dramatic for ME and would be a little over-the-top.) But one musn't forget the occasional cough with the weak hand covering my face pathetically.



For those that are cruel enough to give me more work, they feel properly guilty.