My April 1 Drunk Socks redesign was a huge success. Roone laughed for a long time when he discovered it. Then he pelted me with boxes of cigarettes, maybe a little longer and harder than I felt was necessary. Then he pouted. I laughed myself to sleep, flush with victory. He was still pouting today when he got up until I showed him how easy it was to change it back to a more reasonable look.
So far, no retaliation. That of course could change, but usually I can count on the fact that no one else even bothers to do dumb shit like that.
I'm back at work. My nose hurts. My eyes hurt. My upper lip is an angry red because I forgot to buy tissue and have been using rough, pointy paper towels instead. But everything else feels just fine. Fine! I said I'm fine! Everything is just. Fine. Leave me alone. You don't know me! Nobody knows me!
No, really. It's just a head cold.