For the past three-ish days, I have been struggling with a dose of the Common Cold. As fun as these things usually are, they provide ample time to lay in bed moaning about this-or-that and generally contemplating one's own existence.
In this happy state of affairs, I turned to a couple of go-to rituals to assuage my anguish: Patton and Yogi Triple Echinacea.
For some reason, unbeknownst to me, the combination of George C. Scott roaring, "Rommel... you magnificent bastard, I read your book!" and the tranquil feeling of green tea pulls me up by my bootstraps every time.