It is gross.

Luckily, I have a brilliant green hat to console me. I bought it at the Gap, a store I never visit. I think the cold medicine I took put me in a daze, and when I got to the mall--why was I at the mall, anyway?--I wandered into the Gap and bought a brilliant green cable-knit hat. I do not believe I ever anticipated using the words "cable-knit" in conjunction with the word "hat," especially as far as something that I own. Also, this hat has a giant ...tassel atop it. Like a pompom, only lank, like it used too much conditioner. If it could talk, it would express the concept, "Peace, maaaaaaannn..." and encourage you to join it in eating only food "without a face."

The hat also features two long braid-like appendages at either side, for maximum prolonged childhood/craziness.

It's like my worst nightmare.

Speaking of which, I have inadvertently entered into a bizarre but heartfelt rivalry with my friend Freshtone over whose electric blanket is superior.

I am still uncertain exactly how this rivalry was born. Under the spell of some apple-cider-flavored Theraflu, I answered a phone call from Freshtone, and the next thing I knew, the trash talk was flying, and our respective electric blankets each had names. Well, mine already had a name (Zappy Boy). I suspect that Freshtone invented the name of his (The Redeemer) for purposes of the feud.

I went to sleep last night with Zappy Boy turned up to 11, and the perfect combination of layered blankets, the good pillow (Mr. Wafty), and my brilliant green hat. I think the hat emits healing rays, because I awoke this morning feeling better and ready to face the office again.

If any of you are interested, the magic hat also comes in fire-engine red. That one cures rickets.