Bed

I'm totally sick. Not sure what I've contracted, but I feel like walking garbage. I needed a few provisions, though, so I mustered all my strength and wandered to the local QFC... where I ran into people I knew. I felt like saying, "Look, it's taking all I have just to be upright at the moment, I can't manage small talk too. Go. Away." But I didn't, because it's not their fault.

Or maybe it is. I've never seen them at that QFC before. Now I'm sick, and there they are. Conspiracy?!

I should have seen this coming, because last night was manic, happy and full of energy. Whenever I get totally taken down by an illness, I feel really good the day before. It's as if my body wants to give me a last hurrah, which is nice of it, but would be nicer if it sent out a little memo or something.

FYI: This is the last moment that you'll feel good for quite some time. Take advantage of it. Don't spend the evening watching Clue for the second night in a row and writing something stupid on Twitter every half hour.

Hypothetically. Not that I did that stuff last night.

Ugh. Back to bed.