Wednesday of last week I had a ripping headache. That's kind of to be expected as work has been a wee bit stressful as of late. Thursday, the ripping headache had a serious sinus aspect to it. I still managed to get in a fairly decent run, however. Yeah, unless you were watching me coughing up lung cheese...
Friday morning, Cliff blessed me by running with me. Seriously, almost all of my runs have been alone alone'O. Having someone else along to kick my butt is a very desirable thing. Unfortunately, about mile 2.5 I had to make an exit, stage left. I was getting dizzy, my heart was racing, and I felt like 6 gnomes were sitting on my chest.
No worries though, it didn't stop me from eating breakfast later at Panera. Sick, yes. Anorexic, not a chance...
Saturday was worse. Sunday was even worse.
Cliff gave me the Antichrist for Christmas. Yeah, a 42" plasma tv. Its HUGE. (And as my friend Marky Mark says, HDTV has ruined porn...) He's right. You can see every pore on every actor. In case you thought they were better looking than you... NOT! Ok, maybe they are, but they have zits, too.
Saturday I watched a whole afternoon of America's Next Top Model. Yeah, I know it doesn't exactly fit. Watching all the angst of trying to be perfect, just had a little poetic justice to it. This said from someone whose only piece of jewelry that is normally worn is a Timex Ironman Watch. You know, the 30 lap one.
Sunday, there was a House marathon on USA. Now I know marathons. All 23 of them. A tv show is not a marathon. Even if they show it all day... Ok, but now I'm hooked. Who couldn't be hooked on a vicodin addicted doctor, who actually figures things out and is a only a little more OCD than me? Ok, I don't understand the addiction thing. I have a whole medicine cabinet full of pain meds that I never took. I'm too scared to flush them down the commode... as I have a septic tank and I sure as hell don't want to unintentionally drink them when they filter down to the aquifer again.
But I'm sure that I probably didn't need the pain pills all those times the doctors prescribed them to me and I didn't take them. Someone was certainly flushing theirs (or peeing theirs) down the toilet and maybe that's why I never really had to take them. I probably was drinking them thru my well...
Now I just need to figure out what to do with all that stuff. It's grown to be quite the Elvis Box...
Being sick sucks. All you do is lay around, cough up all kinds of nasty gunk and think about things like Elvis boxes, the dust on the ceiling fan, and how much work is going to get you back when you return.
The dogs sure have liked having me laid up on the couch though. I guess its all in how you look at it.
Monday, January 4, 2010
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