Touch of Plague
I have been HORRIBLY ILL recently. And not the good kind of ill, like the Beastie Boys. The sniffling-sneezing-coughing-aching-get-the-fuck-away-from-me-I-want-to-die type of ill.
I texted my mom yesterday, during the worse of it: "It hurts to brush my hair! It hurts to move my eyes!!! Mommmmiieeeeee..."
Her response? "Well don't do those things. 8-)"
I feel better today (read: my head isn't about to fall off and explode), but I do have a gnarly productive cough [Text to my buddy Stafford: "productive...just like me!"] so I'm going to take it easy tonight. Which is a big bummer because today is the first night of March Madness and I was going to go to a party for the bracket I entered... but knowing I'm probably still contagious... I'm not going to launch spores at total strangers.
I told my girlfriend Annan, who's roommate is running the bracket, that I would totally launch spores at her though... because we share everything. lol.
I texted my mom yesterday, during the worse of it: "It hurts to brush my hair! It hurts to move my eyes!!! Mommmmiieeeeee..."
Her response? "Well don't do those things. 8-)"
I feel better today (read: my head isn't about to fall off and explode), but I do have a gnarly productive cough [Text to my buddy Stafford: "productive...just like me!"] so I'm going to take it easy tonight. Which is a big bummer because today is the first night of March Madness and I was going to go to a party for the bracket I entered... but knowing I'm probably still contagious... I'm not going to launch spores at total strangers.
I told my girlfriend Annan, who's roommate is running the bracket, that I would totally launch spores at her though... because we share everything. lol.