This may possibly be what the ninth level of hell feels like. Okay, maybe the fifth.

[femmequixotic]

I woke up this morning to discover that the temperature was hovering just above zero F and that I had managed to get a vicious case of food poisoning last night. One would think those two facts would lead to a sane person staying home. Evidently I'm not sane. Or, rather, I had a really important work meeting I had to be at from 8:30 to noon, and there's work politics involved (and hi, I need my job right now) so I didn't really have a choice. We shall not discuss the fact that keeping water down has been an impossibility for much of today. Yay, dehydration! Or the fact that I wanted to exsanguinate a woman on the train who unwrapped a strawberry NutriGrain bar. Fortunately, I realized that committing cereal homicide on the T was probably a bad idea. Probably.

Now I'm huddled beneath my blankets feeling seriously like crap at the start of a three-day weekend, which is highly ironic because last Friday I got slammed with the flu and came home and didn't get out of bed until Monday afternoon when I rolled from the bed to the couch. (Yet another reason I went in today...bookending sick days on the week didn't seem wise given the tone of the office lately.) I'd just started to feel better yesterday too. Stupid body and its stupid immune system.

I whine a lot when I'm sick. :( You should feel bad for ze_dragon. She has to put up with me.

Oh, hey, I just ate half a saltine. Sadly, this feels like an accomplishment.