Does it figure? Of course it does. (Doesn’t it?)

In the middle of July, when the temperature has at last (at least for the last two days) crept up to a pleasant 70-degrees, I manage to come down with a cold. While the birds twitter happily outside at 6:00 am, I wake up sounding an awful lot like Darth Vader, breathing with an ominous rattle that leaves my voice roughly two octaves below where it ought to be.

Oh, irony.

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