So, it would appear, despite my best intentions and boasting, I've managed to find something to upset the delicate balance that is my thermal control.
I think I have a fever.
I also have two plays to do this week. Not good. I mean, they're weird plays in any case, this feverish state might increase the oddity of my output. But when confronted with the idea of sleeping vs writing, sleeping seems more attractive to my beleaguered brain.
So, two plays for next week, "Gift Giver" and "Faux Real". Spencer and Baker respectively.
Oh, and Mr. Scuzzy has provided a delicious graphic thermometer I will post on here with all due haste so we can all track my march progress.
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