Crap.

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Woke up too early.  Back to bed.  And with the main part of a head cold.  I'll turn the furnace down this time, but keep the door open.  It's still witch tit cold out there.  Not that that is always bad.  They can all be witches, and right definite cues for stomach turning are preferable.  Never... mind.  Yeah, yeah, but I don't have a choice.  Sleep isn't calling, it is commanding.  As two cold bumps might.  Can't keep my eyes open.  I have had worse.  I've also had better. 

I have a bit of a sense of humor about it though.  Later.