It's not a cold, it's flu. I'm too cold, too hot, too sweaty and too tired. I went down the bar, and nearly fell asleep. This is not abnormal, now I think about it. Sleep is good.
			The characters and situations in this diary are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings. Any resemblance to such things is coincidental, or just for humourous effect. All names have been chosen to implicate the innocent.