Jungles Of Doubt.

I'm not having the greatest run at the moment. Covered in scabs from a crash a week or so ago, run down by an influenza I'm doing my best to convince everyone is swine-related, unable to ride my bike for more than an hour at a time, and now, finally, dispossessed of my voice.

I'm generally a pretty talky bloke, but there are times when I go a long time without speaking. Mostly when I'm asleep, sure. But also when I'm out on the bike, or typing these posts, or, well, yeah, asleep. Oh, also in the morning, when I'm trying to read the paper. But now that I'm consciously trying not to speak so much, it weighs heavy on my mind. It's not that it hurts to speak. It's just that when I try to do so the voice that comes out is that of a midlife drag queen attempting to be sexy. That's an image I don't want to project. So I'm trying not to talk. And it ain't easy.