So. I'm sick.
Not to make a crisis out of a drama or anything - I've only come down with a particularly vindictive flu bug - but I'm thinking it's safe to say I'm going to be out of it for the next couple of days: gobbling down bowl upon bowl of Vicks something-or-other while I bury my face in plates of steaming soup. Or... wait, I'm crossing my wires again, aren't I? :P
In any event, it's times like these I'm particularly thankful that I tend to keep a couple of reviews around from week to week as a sort of buffer. So you certainly won't go hungering for content - one snowbound Corvid, and one big cat's rampage coming right up! - though it mightn't be as timely as all that, you know. I'm sure you understand.
Anyway. Wish me well. I've got my inaugural end-of-the-year considerations to get started on as soon as, after all. Perhaps, in fact, this is an ideal opportunity for me to get caught up on a few of my more notable literary oversights. Under Heaven, anyone? The Desert Spear?
Here's hoping I can keep my eyes open long enough to get a little such reading done at the least...