Sickysnak

I'm sick. Miserably. I'm home and I'm sick and Chris is staying with me and I can't even show him a good time, but he doesn't want to go out in this disgusting weather either.

It's been setting in all week, but suddenly yesterday I started running a really high fever and my head felt heavy and I couldn't sit up or stay awake or run through the meadows or anything. Y'know how you can get so sick that you don't even remember what it feels like to be healthy and you don't think you'll ever be well again? Yeah, like that.

I'm more coherent now. Not sure if it's the Tylenol Cold or the fact that I'm actually getting better. Either way, I'm hoping the fitful, feverish sleep will calm down.

I get really pathetic when I'm sick like I can't do anything for myself. Luckily, I have no problem exploiting people, and I have a houseguest in the absence of a boyfriend. Chris and I ordered omelettes this morning, and I used all the ketchup packets on purpose so that when he wanted ketchup, he'd have to go to the fridge and then I could make him bring me the raspberry jam.

The rest of the day has been filled with Nanny McPhee, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and falling in and out of consciousness. Now everyone had better send me flowers and teddy bears and balloons or I'll come over there and lick all your silverware.