Further Notes on My Martyrdom
Just to clarify, in case you were thinking that I hardly deserved to call myself a martyr after partying the previous night, I don’t actually have a hangover. That was just me using symbolism to demonstrate how crappy I feel. I can’t even immediately recall the last time I drank to the point of having a hangover…oh, no wait, I can…ah, good times!
But anyway, I think that I actually might have the flu, not a hangover. Unless the violent gnomes in my bed also liquored me up while I was sleeping last night, but I’m thinking the flu might be more likely.
I took some ibuprofen and I’m much, much less achy (although nothing seems to touch my aching head), which is pretty much the best gift I could have received today. I’m also no longer freezing…in fact, quite the opposite. I can feel the heat rolling through my body. Parts of my body covered in clothing are dripping with sweat. My cat actually got up and moved away from my because I was singing her fur. There are char marks on my sheets.
In five minutes I have to leave to go pick up my almost-two year old and I’m planning to pick myself up a milkshake on my way home. It’s the only thing that sounds remotely edible today and I think it might be just the ticket.