duck-shaped pain

7 February 2001
The Text Equivalent of a Wet, Messy Sneeze

I'm sick. I figured this out yesterday. I woke up tired, even though I'd slept for THIRTEEN HOURS (I had to go to bed at 7 p.m. the night before to accomplish this feat I don't think I've gone to bed at 7 since first grade). My throat hurt. My eyes hurt. Blinking was a chore. Thoughts seemed painful to think. My hair hurt.

Still, I sucked it all in and put in a full day's work. It's interesting that on those days when I'm only half sick, or even not really sick at all, I'm more than eager to call in or go home early. But when I'm sick, deathly sick, that's when I decide to be a trouper and give it my all.

Got home. Spaced out. Got really interested in the Weather Channel. They said it was going to snow here today. [1] I started getting very involved in some thoughts that were passing through my head, thoughts about how the Weather Channel was secretly encouraging divisiveness and factionalism by only showing parts of the US at a time, and not the whole thing. Then I told myself I had better go to bed before this got any further.

So here I am, at home today. It's cold. It's not snowing (which would make me feel justified for being at home). I slept fourteen hours, which looks like a warning instead of an improvement. The only thing to eat in the house is a case of Boca Burgers, which doesn't sound very appealing. And I am whiny as all get-out.

I need to get me some tea and go back to bed.

[1] They lied.

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