September 29, 2009


Well, good morning. Yes, I am still alive -- please quit your bitching. For the past few days, I've been bogged down with a horrible case of influenza -- no, not of the swine variety, this case was far more seasonal. Anyway, the fucking worst part was that it all started out with my simple, not-too-much-to-ask need for a (few) day(s) off work! I mean really! God only knows how hard I work during the 30 (give or take 5-7 hours) hour work week I'm forced to do.

Listen to this shit. I took off two Fridays ago because, well, my roommate mom wanted someone to complain with and, to be honest, there was a really great episode of Judge Mathis scheduled for that afternoon. That was fine, and my roomz and I enjoyed a delightful cool almost-Fall Friday of revelry and good times.

Fast forward to the following Tuesday night. After I finished watching some History Channel show about the Druids and Jesus, I really, honestly began to feel downright feverish. Perhaps this was because earlier in the evening I had totes challenged myself with an extra three minutes tanning, but, I'm not a doctor, I won't even attempt to self-diagnose. I did decide to prescribe the next day off, that's for sure . . .

And then, a funny thing happened Wednesday. First off, I had a great fucking day. The justice block was totally banging and let me tell you, Tyra really brought it. I mean, I began to wonder what was really stopping me from, ya know, casually taking the entire remainder of the week off. I immediately justified this decision in my head and contacted my closest pharmacy favorite for imperative information to ensure my guise would not be uncovered. So, as you expected, I had the flu, was tested, got some meds and really was just downright worn out - all of which was total bullshit.

And then, right after the second episode of Divorce Court that aired Friday morning, I felt the strangest twinge of ... no, not guilt ... but rather, illness grasp at my breath, my throat grew sore and my body ached.

What. the. fuck. The big guy (in this case, I mean both Michael Jackson and Jesus) had totally pulled a fast one on me! My, my, my, how the tables had turned! The student had become the teacher. I don't mean to sound like a pre-Meth addict Stephanie Tanner but "how rude!"

Don't fret - I obvi enjoyed my miniature 'staycation' and found that an open bar at one of my best friend's weddings was just the cure for my seasonal flu (more about this later). I suggest you try it immediately upon coming down with the influenza or a case of the "I'd rather spend my day with Judge Alex Ferrar" syndrome. Don't worry, I won't judge (even though he might.)

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