Superman is dead.

Killed by the shaking of some random hand, which transferred germs. Germs containing just enough Kryptonite to bring the Man of Steel crashing down.

This is a dramatic way of saying that somehow I have caught a cold. Normally when I catch a cold, I get sick for five or six hours in the morning, throw up, then find a spot to park my car in the sun and sleep, and sweat it off. I’m usually fine by evening.

I employed this method to no avail, and spent Friday and Saturday feeling awful .