Over on Facebook I had several friends posting about their illnesses over the weekend. Various brands of sinus infection, flu and even an inner ear infection, all of which involved nasty cruddy nausea, body aches and just general ick.
When I came down with the flu yesterday around lunchtime my first thought was “Frak.” My second thought was “I guess it’s going around” and my third thought was “how did I catch a disease FROM FACEBOOK?!?”
It wasn’t until last night when my poor husband climbed about the ship I’m on–braving the tossing seas and unsteady deck to remind me that I went to the grocery store on Saturday and that I grabbed a burger at a fast food restaurant Sunday–that I remembered I’d actually interacted with the real world. Of course he’s been sick too, but my flu doesn’t look like his.
I broke my promise to myself yesterday by not writing a blog entry. Which is probably good because the one I was going to write involved a lot of yelling at J.J. Abrams for the Fringe Season Finale. And it would have looked very much like the other times I’ve yelled at J.J.Abrams, which I won’t link to because it may spoil the Fringe finale for those of you who haven’t seen it yet. I of course want everyone to be watching Fringe; it’s ten times the show Lost ever was. All the mystery, none of the Jack. With real stories that GO SOMEWHERE.
I’m writing this entry today because my computer is down here by the door to the yard, and I’m letting the dogs do their morning ablutions. But they now seem to be thoroughly abluted so I’m signing off now with the knowledge that this is half as long as it should be. But you probably don’t want to read about my dream of working in a hot-dog factory on a team of four people and covering for the man on our team with Down’s Syndrome, screwing up a batch of hot dogs because I was too busy doing two functions (*mine and helping the fellow with his) and then having to go to a Sports Chapel in punishment. I hate sports chapels.