holiday day the last, and someone else's con crud

Today is Saturday, meaning that by this afternoon I'll be back on the road to weekend at home with pocketmouse. Which is not really 'holiday' anymore, but just futzing around where I keep all my stuff.

I'm probably going to make her play Rock Band. And discover Mission of Burma. And...something else, and I can't remember it.

Anyway.

Either I am more sensitive to cat allergens than I thought (unlikely, given precautions taken), I am allergic to something in hotel rooms (possible), or I am coming down with someone else's con's crud (wicked likely). I started feeling rough enough yesterday afternoon to buy some OTC medication and opt not to go out bar-hopping (and instead caught up on some reading, e-mails, and watched the pilot episode of White Collar).

I'm not dead yet, but I think I've got some kind of low grade fever going on today. Am applying tea (cool green tea with ginger and rose), ibuprofen, and sheer bloodyminded 'I WILL NOT BE SICK ON REX MANNING DOCTOR WHO DAY' will.

It's bright orange ibuprofen too, so it will surely be SUPER EFFECTIVE.

Also, can I just say that few things feel awesome in the same way as cradling two tins of pretty new teas to take home? Who loves you, my little Temple of Heaven Gunpowder? Who loves you, my lovely Caravan Smoke? I do! That's who!

It's the fever talking. I swear it.

Six things in three categories about tonight's Doctor Who.

( If you need a SPOILER WARNING, this is it. )