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Friday, Aug. 13, 2004 / 3:55 p.m. ~Instant Karma's Got Me~ Day Two of my vacation has so far been spent trying really hard not to feel sick, searching for good pictures of Julia Child online (she died last night at the ripe ol' age of 91, and I'm in denial), and reading "Big Brother 5" live feed recaps and laughing, in between trying to clear my throat and swallow successfully. I remember waking on the sofa last night... because I was snoring. That was a first for me, I'm pretty darned sure. My mouth was open and I must have been making that snorting snoring sound through it. Lovely. One other time last night I woke up drooling. Whee, and such. Otherwise, I simply tossed and turned and coughed and felt so much heat in my throat I woke over and over and over again. My lovely coworker Veronica has been sick for approximately the past six weeks, maybe eight, and I've been subjected to the constant loud throat clearnings, the coughing, the hacking, the loogy hocking and the sneezing, all the while praying to whatever omniscient and caring being there is (aw hell, we're all alone here, get used to it) that I would not succumb. Then I had to go and skip my vitamins a day or two, eat nothing but PJB and grits one day, and then forget to take my echinacea, and during PMS? Forget it. I'm finally succumbing, and it's all I've got not to write her a vicious email for her to read whilst sitting in her fucking cubicle right now, hacking and hocking while I'm on vacation feeling like I got hit by a truck. No, life is not fair, this we know. I had plans, people, plans, the Zoo, movies, stuff, shopping, things, you know, this is a vacation, not hospitalization. Oh, I'm fending, I'm fighting, my blood is boiling in an attmempt to rid my body of toxins currently invading with their little helmets on and all. There's a goddamned war going on in my bloodstream and it's knocking me on my ass. So, I sit here, online, as it's comfortable and doesn't require much movement. I try to swallow without gagging on phlegm, and I measure the soreness in my throat with what it was Wednesday night, and am thankful, oh so very, that I managed to leave work Wednesday and shop at the Whole Foods slash Farmer's Market for one hundred three dollars' worth of very good for me food, so that now I'm set. Funny, I felt fine then. It must be Karmic payback, Instant Karma, for shouting, "I'm on Vacation!" and doing a happy dance. Dammit. The weather is spectacular, not even 80 degrees, the sky is Autumn blue, though we do have officially one whole month, plus, of Summer left, and the window's open with fan, the porch is open, Gladys needs fluids again, I can tell, both cats are logy and lethargic, and I'm ill, and here's a picture of one of my first childhood heroes, one Julia Child, with a large monkfish. Dammit, couldn't she have lived forever?  Durr, just had one of those HUGE "AAAACHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" sneezes. Fuck you, Veronica, and your fucking penicillin self medicating for a goddamned chest cold. The goddamned cold of death you've now passed on to me, me on my VACATION. May you die from your cold, and never infect anyone again. Cost of the War in Iraq
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