“Mr. Mucus”
Yes, that would be me.
If there were a market for the stuff, I would be in Fat City.
In the meantime, I shall deal with the watery eyes, hacking explosive coughing and feeling as if I had been hit by a bus.
Clearly the cold-induced head goo has not only plugged up my ears, but it also has lodged in the few remaining creativity portals in my cruller.
I think I shall do comfy chair, a bankie and a James Patterson novel — short chapters.
It’s about all that I can handle at the moment.
