Nyquil and A Beer Chaser, Please

Still. Fighting. This. Cold.

I have this hacking cough still and today I awoke without even the hint of a voice. Your roaring tiger has been reduced to a whispering lily. I thought of leaving the lily bit off because some of you might deem it quite a nickname for one who coins weird nicknames. But on it stays due to the mood that has wracked me for days: I want my head on the lap of 40-gallon girl. (grin)

Now, the 40-gallon bit might not stay. But I'll settle for it now because her essence is being somewhat resistant to the art of the nic. It'll come. And this one drives her mad and that is good enough for now. (huge grin)

Fancy Pants thinks the whole distance thing I have going with two different girls is fine but telling. Says I maybe use it as a sort of safety net. Phtt, I say. It isn't like I'm not putting myself out there round here. I am.

I've just decided to be a bit more free with my expectations of loving. Glitter Girl has wormed her way back into my thoughts in the larger sense. As in, down below I mentioned taking myself out of the running with her. Well, watch me run again. And there is 40-Gal.

And I am finding that there is ample space in my heart for both and the swelling feelings they both create in me.

In other news, I live in Chicago. And in Chicago it is snowing quite a lot. Thank God I caved on the parking. My street is bare and those cars linger somewhere. But your smart Nomy has a space all to herself. (taps temple) Smaaarrrt girl. And tomorrow I get to wear my new big boots. Ahh, sweet simple bliss.

As the segue is perfect, I'll tell you about bliss. It's all wrapped up in a long conversation with a girl who sighs in my ear with the sweetest voice I know. Ah, yes. Sweet bliss, I am smitten.