Blurry eyes

New contacts blurring the eyes. Vision pleasantly rounds all sharp edges, blends distinct forms into friendly elisions. Plastic hardening the corneas. Tired eyes. I got the flu from a draft from a flue. That's a lie. I got a cold with all the symptoms of meningitis. I sleep propped at at 30 degree angle for half-days at a time, and breathe through my mouth at work until I am so embarassed to be mouth-breathing that I hold my breath until I erupt blue-faced in snot sneezes and reptilian coughs.

Nothing to say. It's 11 degrees in Central Park with what was formerly 13" of powder on the ground and is now 0"-6" of crust/slush/brown deflation everywhere. My boss reports that "some Russian person" has written him twice today soliciting money. A Gatorade bottle on my desk beseeches me to QUENCH MY THIRST but glucose-fructose syrup doesn't quench shit when your thirst originates from your sinuses and yearns to be drowned in tussins and tinctures. Now there are papers on my desk marked in black and red.

Now there is a phone call being ignored. Now there is a damp chill in my shoes. Now I am gathering my scarves. Now I will surreptitiously dart out the door and take a train that will take me home, where I will sleep until these sickly winches fall off my face. Now, now, now, finally.