Down with the sickness
I recall Brandon, curled up and miserable on a bench in the Seoul airport, sick with what he would describe as a nomadic cold. I think that best describes what I have. This morning, it moved back into my throat. I was enjoying not having to cough. I really was. So much for that.
I woke up a few minutes ago, wide awake from having slept 11 hours. I thought, "Today is the day." I thought I'd walk to Turtle Creek and feed the ducks. Or walk in the opposite direction, and grab breakfast at Cafe Brazil. It'd be silly to think I'd have the energy for both, of course.
And yet, here I am, tired just from getting ready to leave.
I've been sick a week. I'm fucking tired of it. I have too much I want to do to put up with this crap.
Working 12 hours yesterday? Misery. I was pretty loopy and nauseous by the end of it. But, I managed to catch up on all the shipping stuff at work. Woot.
I woke up a few minutes ago, wide awake from having slept 11 hours. I thought, "Today is the day." I thought I'd walk to Turtle Creek and feed the ducks. Or walk in the opposite direction, and grab breakfast at Cafe Brazil. It'd be silly to think I'd have the energy for both, of course.
And yet, here I am, tired just from getting ready to leave.
I've been sick a week. I'm fucking tired of it. I have too much I want to do to put up with this crap.
Working 12 hours yesterday? Misery. I was pretty loopy and nauseous by the end of it. But, I managed to catch up on all the shipping stuff at work. Woot.