Happy Birthday, Reid!

So I've been feeling like a victim of the salt creature in one of the Classic Star Trek episodes, except instead of being left an empty husk examined briefly by a somewhat jaded Dr. McCoy ("She's dead, Jim"), I find myself drained of energy and all motivation except to sleep like the undead, rousing myself occasionally to sprawl on our living room couch blinking dazedly (think Jabba the Hutt) at the TV screen, guzzling Nyquil straight out of the bottle, the crumpled wrappers of mini Aero chocolate bars scattered at my feet like dead alien butterflies.

Hoo boy, I think it's time to go back to bed...

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