I was really sick

Bronchitis is very, very fired.

Not like there's ever a right time to feel like you're dying, but this was an especially poorly-timed illness for a variety of reasons. I got really sick on Wednesday and didn't go to the doctor on Friday. The doctor gave me miracle drugs that got me back into fighting shape, but not before I'd started freaking out all of the people who were helping me to organize the fundraiser I and the New York boys of Leather had planned for Saturday night. As it turned out I was able to make it to the party and we ended up raising $550 for the Ali Forney Center, a queer youth homeless shelter. But it was touch and go there for a moment.

Also, I turned in my last college essay ever on Tuesday, but lingering bronchial evil meant that I was in absolutely no condition to celebrate properly. I'm thinking of putting something together for next Tuesday night, if anyone is interested in knocking a few back with me in celebration of my newfound freedom, or the onset of terrifying responsibilities, or the extinction of lung-based sleeper cells.

COUGH COUGH COUGH. Sigh.