Here I am, 3:30 on a Thursday, surfing the Dope because there’s not a blessed thing on TV at this hour that is worth the energy it would take to crawl over to the remote. I’m lying on the floor because I can’t keep myself propped in a chair. I would make myself a cup of tea, but due to my shortsightedness I neglected to place the microwave, water, cups, and teabags down here on the floor with me.
I’ve had enough Advil to make the company’s stock split, and I feel like I’ve been run over by a bulldozer. Which then backed up over me. The dog keeps looking at me quizzically, as if to say “What are you doing here at this time of day? And why are you on the floor?” Periodically, she brings her ball over and drops it by my head, as a plea for me to play with her, which is always good for a bitter laugh followed by a wracking, spasming coughing fit.
I’m pretty sure I have a fever, but since my hand is the same temperature as my head, how the hell would I know? And what difference would it make? I’d just take Advil, which I’m already doing.
I cannot sleep anymore, and I’m bored and cranky and querelous and I want my Mom. She lives a thousand miles away and wasn’t Donna Reed even when I was little and sick. I want Donna Reed to be my mom.
I hate being single when I’m sick. There’s no one to take care of me, except me. And I’m too sick for the job.
Oh dear. Dogs are good for lots of things, but they’re not really very good at that whole “nursing the sick” thing. You need to get up long enough to get some fluids in you, and then get to bed, preferably with a cozy book.
FWIW, I’ve had pretty good luck with Tamiflu (You have to take it within 1st couple of days of symptoms).
It’s kind of a tossup in the cost-benefit equation, according to some docs. On average it knocks off 1.3 days off the duration of the flu…but it’s pricey.
But 1.3 days of that fancy lawyerin’ of yours is probably more than the script cost
I can certainly sympathize. I’m headachy with a sore throat and congestion. I don’t want Donna Reed to be my mom, though. I want Ashley Judd – I’m just thinkin’ she could make me feel better.
Thanks, guys. You make me feel less pathetically wretched, in spite of the fact that I just got a call from my supervisor and I have to go to work tomorrow to hold the hand of a nervous client on a project of mine, because he (the client) doesn’t understand why I did exactly the thing he asked me to do, because he (the client) does not have the brains to pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were printed on the heel. Not that I’m bitter.
Sigh. Sorry you’re feeling poorly too, TUCKER. Thanks for the tea, GUIN, but the truth is, I don’t really like tea. I only drink it when I’m sick.
