458: what is snot for?

Human Enigma and friends

I have a non-specific cold in which I sort of feel fine, yet my face is like a tap, if snot came from taps, which it doesn't. It comes from my face. I'm pretty sure I've felt like this for the last two-hundred and sixty days, or thereabouts. It's not fun, I can tell you; obviously you didn't think it was fun. I don't imagine there was any envy expressed upon reading my opening sentences. In fact it's a fairly sorry state to be in. I don't know how I will cope in the dusty, poorly-ventilated atmosphere of the work place. Pop along and see the human tap easily ooze a sort of gloop; bring along a jar and collect your own specimens to keep and treasure for as long as you both shall live. Please pay in man-size boxes of tissues; for an extra special collectible bonus gift pay in Kleenex man-size Balsam tissues. I can't afford them, sad face.

Responsibility for the destruction of the rainforests personally rests upon the broken bridge of my streaming nose. The tissues are now gone and I have moved on to the pile of napkins lifted from fast food restaurants over the last few months. I knew they would come in handy for something today or one of these other days. Don't mind me, I'm just having a little episode. My eyes are glazed like disgusting doughnuts and the computer screen is a jumble of pixels and bullshit. I've taken the day off work as a compromise so I can work late on Friday and come in on Saturday, usually a day off. It's going to be the high street's busiest weekend apparently.

My day off was supposed to be a constructive one with hours of writing and coffee drinking. Instead, I've managed to make my tiny little office space habitable again; then I've sort of gazed into space through twitter, listened to a bit of music, made some important long overdue phone calls to the kind of numbers that put you on hold for extremely long periods of time, eaten a sandwich, read some of The Cyberiad by Stanisław Lem (thanks Matthew Pearce for the recommendation), and written a paragraph about snot. I then started writing this paragraph about today, eventually arriving right here, now.

If I had some money, today would have been further wasted, and probably irretrievably, because I would have bought, downloaded, installed, played the new Telltale Games episodic adventure: Jurassic Park: The Game. I love Telltale and am happy to pay for their output. I'll be forever grateful for their continuing of the Sam and Max and Monkey Island games. Anything that drags and updates -kicking and screaming- my childhood interests into adulthood is alright with me. More Monkey Island please, please. Quick, before I grow up again.