Ugh. Hope that's finally over.
Mar. 29th, 2006 09:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lhskarkaSpent the last two days sick, again. With my immune system weakened by fighting with last weeks Con-Crud, it was apparently all too easy for me to pick something else up that I got to fight with this week. This time it was the second-worst-sort-of-ick(TM), at least for me. I woke up feeling feverish and headachy on Monday, but had a ton of work to get through, and no real fever, so I bucked up, took some medecine and headed off to work. Mistake! I did manage to get through what needed doing, but by noon I was in no shape to concentrate and much warmer, so I went home for chicken soup and comfort.
Sadly, a single afternoon of this did not prove to be enough, and I wasn't feeling any better on Tuesday. Here's what elevates it to second-worst-sort-of-ick(TM), at least in my book. This nasty little bug was the kind that kept me alert enough that I couldn't sleep, and listless enough that I couldn't concentrate on anything. So my day went mostly like this:
Laura's Brain: Okay, if I can't sleep, I'll write.
The Ick: Nope, that takes to much concentration. No new plot development for you, missy.
LB: Can I do character creation for Seventh Sea?
TI: Are you kidding?! That involves numbers - and thinking! No way!
LB: What about reading?
TI: Nah, we don't wanna do that either. Especially since the book you're trying to read has all the 's's printed in that script where they look like 'f's. Too hard.
LB: What about a comic book? I really want to read this collection of The Nocturnals.
TI: We'll try it, but only a few pages at a time. Pictures are okay.
(Most ironic quote from text is when Doc Horror's daughter mentions that "Daddy says only boring people get bored.")
LB: Well, if I can't write or read, how about sewing?
TI: You're really going to try and tell us that sewing dosen't take concentration? Hah!
LB: Fine! I'll do laundry then. Look, I'm doing it!
TI: Just for that, we're gonna make you feel weak and mildly dizzy. You can sweat, too. Sit right back down on that couch and stare at the TV. If you're very lucky, we'll only punish you by having you lose the argument with your stomach about the proper placement of luncheon so you can spend the rest of the day hungry and nervous about eating.
(Pity party moment: The sound of your own retching in an otherwise empty house is desperately lonely.)
LB: I'm not letting you stick around past the end of the day. So there!
TI: Just try and stop us!
LB: I'm drinking this juice! Screw you!
TI: Ahhhh!
Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite that dramatic, but by about five I was bored with a capital BORED, but felt better. My accomplishments for the day totalled washing sheets and making the bed, reading The Nocturnals "Black Halloween", and kicking The Ick. By seven-thirty I was ravenous, and the fried rice I made for the teenagers dinner just didn't cut it. I ate tacos. They stayed where they belonged. I still have a sinus headache, but that's nothing.
This morning started with a little A.M. sexy-sexy. I'm not sick. Or bored. Things are looking up.
Sadly, a single afternoon of this did not prove to be enough, and I wasn't feeling any better on Tuesday. Here's what elevates it to second-worst-sort-of-ick(TM), at least in my book. This nasty little bug was the kind that kept me alert enough that I couldn't sleep, and listless enough that I couldn't concentrate on anything. So my day went mostly like this:
Laura's Brain: Okay, if I can't sleep, I'll write.
The Ick: Nope, that takes to much concentration. No new plot development for you, missy.
LB: Can I do character creation for Seventh Sea?
TI: Are you kidding?! That involves numbers - and thinking! No way!
LB: What about reading?
TI: Nah, we don't wanna do that either. Especially since the book you're trying to read has all the 's's printed in that script where they look like 'f's. Too hard.
LB: What about a comic book? I really want to read this collection of The Nocturnals.
TI: We'll try it, but only a few pages at a time. Pictures are okay.
(Most ironic quote from text is when Doc Horror's daughter mentions that "Daddy says only boring people get bored.")
LB: Well, if I can't write or read, how about sewing?
TI: You're really going to try and tell us that sewing dosen't take concentration? Hah!
LB: Fine! I'll do laundry then. Look, I'm doing it!
TI: Just for that, we're gonna make you feel weak and mildly dizzy. You can sweat, too. Sit right back down on that couch and stare at the TV. If you're very lucky, we'll only punish you by having you lose the argument with your stomach about the proper placement of luncheon so you can spend the rest of the day hungry and nervous about eating.
(Pity party moment: The sound of your own retching in an otherwise empty house is desperately lonely.)
LB: I'm not letting you stick around past the end of the day. So there!
TI: Just try and stop us!
LB: I'm drinking this juice! Screw you!
TI: Ahhhh!
Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite that dramatic, but by about five I was bored with a capital BORED, but felt better. My accomplishments for the day totalled washing sheets and making the bed, reading The Nocturnals "Black Halloween", and kicking The Ick. By seven-thirty I was ravenous, and the fried rice I made for the teenagers dinner just didn't cut it. I ate tacos. They stayed where they belonged. I still have a sinus headache, but that's nothing.
This morning started with a little A.M. sexy-sexy. I'm not sick. Or bored. Things are looking up.
