Sickly

[shannon_a]

Bleh. Being sick really sucks. After two days spent vegging, sleeping, reading Harry Potter, watching Stargate SG-1, and sneaking in some work when I though no one was watching, I struggled back to the office today.

The mile and a half walk was OK. Much better than I expected. I don't really remember it, actually. Hmm, maybe that's not the best sign.

Nonetheless, I could tell I was still sick when I got to work and felt like the thermostat was set at about eighty degrees. Other than that it's been a pretty typically tired, muddled, confused, hallucinatory, slow-thinking, fugue-state day.

I'm not super sick any more. My white blood cells have ceased their manic production, and I can breathe again. Mostly, I'm suffering from two nights of terrible sleep, between inability to breathe and being woken up by terrible, scratchy coughing. (I was up for an hour-and-a-half in the middle of the night last night because I couldn't stop.) Who would imagine that that sleeping and dreaming stuff is really that important?

On the bright side, we've had the in-office contagious agent admit his culpability, which is always a plus, and the mystery that must be solved whenever one is sick.

Bleh.

Comments

[kimberly-a.livejournal.com]

Who would imagine that that sleeping and dreaming stuff is really that important?

Those of us who are up all night pretty frequently. ;-)

I'm sorry you're still feeling so crappy. Of course, by the time you read this comment, you'll probably be *here*, so this is kind of silly.