Huh.

So apparently there's a near apocalyptic flu epidemic going on out there. Most of my flist and their families are sick, and about half of the community on my favorite blog is down for the count. I was saying to Dar that the upside to being as semi-isolated as I have been is that it cuts down on my exposure to the various buggies out there. I hope y'all are feeling much better soon.

I went back to my usual prednisone dose today - and the damn flare came back. I'm woozy and wobbling and cotton-headed all over again. And so very, very tired. Back I go on the increased pred tomorrow.

It's snowing. It's not supposed to be snowing; it's supposed to be raining. Why do I continually let myself get sucker punched by the Canadian weather service? Why? They couldn't correctly forecast rain in the middle of a freakin' monsoon.

I'm watching the annotated repeat of last week's Lost while I type this. I think it's a great idea to do that, because it points up a lot of the connections I've missed because I'm feeble brained lately. And because it's a wicked complex plot.

The weather has been so not-blizzardy lately that we've been keeping the door to the deck open so the cats can come and go at will. Apparently one of the neighbor kitties took it as an open invitation to come visit, and because he looks like a mini Rocky, he wasn't really noticed for a bit. Maddie said that he wandered into the kitchen and up the hallway before Pixel caught on. Pixel does not love the neighbor kitty, as deeply adorable as he is. It's just as well, because I saw him out on the deck the other day when the door was closed, his little nose pressed pleadingly up against the glass - and I really wanted to let him inside. Because I'm insane.

Yeah, that's about it.