One doesn't.
One treks upstairs after a rather grueling 18 holes of golf, the first 9 of which could possibly make it into the Guinness book of records as the most random and inconsistent (and the most snotty) holes ever played, involving not one but three accidents either involving a club, the trolley, or the green and one.
And one inadvertent spraying of nasal saline spray into one's unsuspecting and completely unprepared eye.
One simply refuses to write and maintains that the rest of the first season of Fringe is the best thing one can do for one's stuffed up nose.
One realizes that one can just curl up with a hot bowl of soup, a cup op tea one wishes were coffee, some DVDs, that saline nasal spray, and several boxes of crisp white tissues ready for the job of their lives, and hope that the people who seem to be enjoying the random crap ideas that normally pour out of one's noggin (Really? Is that where they come from? Could have fooled me...) in the place of the current snot-flow, will be back to read whatever one manages to come up for Tuesday, and forgive one for not coming up with a proper post.
One's sick y'all. Snotty McSnot from Mucusville. Let's give one a break.
One has meetings to attend on Monday, after all.
There it is, calling out: E-ext! OH, E-ext. ExtranjeeraaaAAA!
