If you were one of the people who muttered when the evil Emperor got back onstage at a plot-convenient time,* you'll know exactly how I feel at the return of my cold. Same progression as last time: one-sided throat irritation, growing sinus congestion/overproduction, coughing, sneezing, fatigue and muscle aches. Maybe it's the flu. Maybe it's not. It isn't COVID-19; I checked, though mostly just so I could tick that box.
This is Day Three, or maybe Day Two-and-half, and it can damn well get wrapped up by by tomorrow morning. I'm going back to bed.
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* At a certain point, some time before Jar-Jar Fetchit shucked and jived into the cast, I had decided that trying to make the storylines of any part of Star Wars add up was a fool's errand and the best approach was to sit back, enjoy the blinking lights, and let the sword fights and faster-than-light videocalls just play out; either you're happy with a universe where few controls are labelled and hyperspace navigation is like pulling into a parking space at the 7-11, or you're not. Hey, look, it's Hero's Journey!
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