It all started on Monday. I felt great that morning. I had a solid breakfast, drank some green tea and headed to work. I was fine all day. Then about a half hour before I was ready to leave work my throat got a little dry. I thought it was a result of my non-stop talking and drinking over the weekend so I didn't worry about it. I came home, threw in a load of laundry, and sat down to write the previous blog and noticed that my throat was feeling much drier than before. I began consuming a ridiculous amount of H2O. It didn't help. My throat still didn't hurt but it was now as dry as my Auntie Mary's Banana Bread.
By the time I finished the blog I remembered thinking, this blog is awful, and I am in big trouble. I posted it anyway and passed out.
The next morning I woke up with a fever. I went to work believing it would pass, worked half the day in MISERY, then went immediately to my Doctor, and sure enough he told me I had THE FLU. I told him to give me as many drugs as possible to get me better immediately. And he did just that.
Being sick sucks. You can't taste your food. It's hard to sleep. Your nose gets all irritated. Your eyes are either too watery or too dry. You're lazy. And as a result of your laziness you eat candy and fast food. Your body hurts. Did I say you can't taste your food?... because you CAN'T! You miss work. You miss school. Well the last 2 aren't so bad. You watch Maury Povich. Pretty much your life is FUCKED. Basically when you're sick you become a white-trash, unemployed, Middle-American.
If none of this makes any sense... And I sound like a METH HEAD... It's probably because I have ingested 90% of the over-the-counter ingredients used to make METH... So bare with me; I'm cracked out over here.
Every time I get sick, which isn't very often, I say the same thing... "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy." And you know what; I wouldn't... but I may wish it upon some of my friends.
Whenever someone in your group of friends falls ill, it's in your best interest to convince them to stay the HELL home. I feel like even when you're sick, your friends still want you to hang out. What is up with that? Do they want us to die? Do they want our illness? I can't imagine my presence being that important. Personally, when any of my friends are sick, I don't want to see any of those BASTARDS until they have been in a decompression chamber for at least a week. Hanging out with someone blowing green mucous into the sleeve of a Cardigan all night sounds delightful. I'd rather watch reruns of "The Hills".
So I missed 2 full days of work, and after sweating profusely in my bed on 3 consecutive nights... I figured it was time to get up and complain about being SICK. I swear I had planned on writing a Happy Blog this week but of course the Gods had to put a stop to that by slapping me in the face with a hand dipped in INFLUENZA. I wanted to write about... I just fell asleep and woke up with drool on my arm. A few hours passed during what I would call an early-afternoon nap and I've forgotten what this entry was about... it's seems long enough and who says it needs an ending. I'll come back when I'm feeling better. I hope none of you get what I have... unless you're one of my friends.
sissy.
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