Vertiginous Outburst

It's like writing about it was a cocky dare to the bacteria within me; having seen the challenge, they rose up to prove something to someone, somewhere. Well, if that something was, "Burning sinuses and a cramping stomach make the host unhappy," then they win. Oh, do they win -- such winning is, dare I say, undisputable.
And it was about at this point where the bacteria decided that because it wasn't quite enough to light my inner nasal passages on fire and twist my intestines into the shape of some quantum probability model of an atom, that they had a committee meeting and moved to pass the bill to increment the temperature by which my body operates by a notch or two -- the motion passed with a ninety-to-three victory. Those three committee members who dissented have since been sentenced to death by white blood cell consumption. It was an ugly scene, reporters reported (as is the trend of reporters, to report).
The world is a warm, warm place. Not necessarily warm and fuzzy, but warm, nonetheless; unless one is to equivocate fuzziness with the haziness of being drugged. As a result, everything is sort of slow and disconnected. I tried to get some writing done, and I had lots of ideas, but nothing came out, in text. Blasted common cold, one day I will have my revenge.
I'm going to go back to groggily . . . Uh, existing.