Ice age coming, let me hear both sides.
Went to work super-early Friday morning, looking to grade papers like a maniac. Did so for a couple of hours, feeling a slight headache, nothing major. Then, around 8:30, there was a transitional period of about three minutes where I went:
"Huh. I wonder if I'm getting sick."
"Yeah, I'm probably getting sick."
"Yep. It's coming. This'll be a bummer weekend."
"Oh. It's here."
"Okay, I need to go home. Right now."
Drove home shaking and clicking and sneezing, dove into bed at 9:45 a.m. and didn't wake up until Marla and Evvy came home from the countryside at 2 in the afternoon. Stayed awake for four hours or so, long enough to drink soup and blow my nose, and then it was back to bed. Woke up again at midnight and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went upstairs and watched the latest disc of Errol Morris's First Person (bizarre, fascinating, very highly recommended) and then back to bed for another six or seven hours...
It's been like that for the last couple of days. Big chunks of sleep at odd hours, punctuated by gross, grouchy, nine-kinds-of-uncomfortable periods of waking. It couldn't have come at a worse time. The fall semester ended on Friday, and grades are due this week. I have some papers left to grade -- not an impossibly high stack, for a change, but the parameters of possibility do change somewhat when you're under the thumb of the flu. The big, greasy, bruising thumb. Yuck.
Hmm. I think it's time to lie down again. Joy.
"Huh. I wonder if I'm getting sick."
"Yeah, I'm probably getting sick."
"Yep. It's coming. This'll be a bummer weekend."
"Oh. It's here."
"Okay, I need to go home. Right now."
Drove home shaking and clicking and sneezing, dove into bed at 9:45 a.m. and didn't wake up until Marla and Evvy came home from the countryside at 2 in the afternoon. Stayed awake for four hours or so, long enough to drink soup and blow my nose, and then it was back to bed. Woke up again at midnight and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went upstairs and watched the latest disc of Errol Morris's First Person (bizarre, fascinating, very highly recommended) and then back to bed for another six or seven hours...
It's been like that for the last couple of days. Big chunks of sleep at odd hours, punctuated by gross, grouchy, nine-kinds-of-uncomfortable periods of waking. It couldn't have come at a worse time. The fall semester ended on Friday, and grades are due this week. I have some papers left to grade -- not an impossibly high stack, for a change, but the parameters of possibility do change somewhat when you're under the thumb of the flu. The big, greasy, bruising thumb. Yuck.
Hmm. I think it's time to lie down again. Joy.
hurled forth by Felix Helix | 1:40 PM
2 Comments:
Hope you feel better soon, Yosha. :)
Ditto!
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