I'm sick. I know this because....well because I am admitting it. I never admit when I'm sick. Also, last night, my neighbors had a massive Pot Smoking festival, and the smell made me so nauseated, I knew I must be sick. Normally when Marijuana seeps through the walls, I get the munchies. I've had no interest in food and still don't.
It started off as a mild Sinus irritation I attributed to all the dust at work, but yesterday exploded into a high fever and dizziness (actual dizziness, not blonde dizziness). I had Captain Awesome come get me early from work (he had a fever too), and we were asleep by 4pm. It was sleep, but that frenzied, fever sleep, you know? My whole body was shivering, but my lips were on fire. I could not speak, and all my thoughts were in Shakespearian English, and I think iambic pentameter to boot. In my delirium, all I remember is thinking something like, "I do not condemn your family, but your treatment of them, the very basis of which gives rise to your villainy." I think I was talking to Liam Neeson. I could not, for the life of me, form any modern sentences. This is a big deal because typically my stream of consciousness flows in Jane Austen speak, not Shakespeare. To be fair, I did just watch "Much Ado About Nothing" last weekend. I woke up with my pillow soaked around my head, and I think my fever had broke somewhere in there.
I am not at work today. My plan was to go in and try to get through it, because my boss is out of town, and I knew things would be bare schedule wise. Last night I called another one of my bosses, and we worked out a plan. For this I am very grateful. I did not realize how ill I feel. I have been up for one hour, and am presently returning to that bastion of rest, my bed. That's the update from the ole' homestead at the moment.
So sorry to hear that! Praise Jesus you're feeling better. Those are the worst kind of sicknesses.
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