Last night, I was out at First Friday with some friends. This involved walking around Olde City, an area heavy with art galleries, going in and out from the cold drizzle into overheated gallery spaces. (Just to make matters worse, I was wearing a down jacket.) I simply could not get my temperature stable, and since then, I’ve felt like I have a chill — just like in the Jane Austen novels. I hope I don’t die before Mr. Darcy finds me!

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