I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell

So, I seem to be on the tail end of some form of the flu. Not entirely surprising, given what I do for a living, but still kind of weird considering that I don’t even get colds that often. There’s those couple requisite days of rehydration after a tropical vacation, mostly because of too little sleep and too much of everything else, but other than that, I’m just not a cold-getter.

I would’ve blogged over the weekend, but I was having difficulty with being anything but horizontal, and thus may have also been challenged to write much more than “need more juice” and “gummy stars rainbow hiccup.” Yeah, decided to spare you all that. Anyway, as it turns out, this is how you know you’re sick, even when you’re A Person Who Doesn’t Get Sick:

1. When you mix up your pronouns. Yesterday, I said several variations on, “They… she… I mean, he said…” and “I thought that she was going to go with him… I mean, that you were going to go with her.”
2. When you can’t explain what the hell your problem is. I was clearly wheezing but announced to anyone who was interested that my coughs were going into my brain.
3. When you’re not so much sleeping as hallucinating. When I’m sick and trying to sleep, it’s like I become the project manager of all these imaginary dream jobs, because I’m dreaming that I need to get some kind of extremely pressing work done, and I keep waking up worrying that I’m not done yet, and I’m actually pretty stressed about accomplishing these imaginary tasks, and then in my half-awake state I tell myself, “Hey, don’t worry, it’ll all get done! Oh wait, these are all make-believe problems. Go back to SLEEP.” This is your brain on cough medicine.
4. When you suddenly don’t care that it’s Superbowl Sunday… oh, no wait, I never care that it’s Superbowl Sunday. The only good thing about Superbowl Sunday is the apps, none of which I could eat this time around because the only thing that looked good to me was orange juice, and also the fact that it means we’re that much closer to baseball season. (Ryan was cute, though: “I have a question about all the backs. So there’s quarterbacks and Hasselbacks and running backs…”)

The other thing that I realized is that your temperature doesn’t matter unless you’re a kid. Okay, maybe it matters if you’re really really sick and in the hospital, but when you’re just sick in a normal way and your mom asks you if you have a temperature, you realize that the whole point of having a temperature is for it to be high enough for her to let you stay home from school (“Please, please, let it be in the hundreds, let it be in the hundreds… 100.6! Yes! I’m SICK! I’m going to watch The Price is Right! Have fun in earth science, suckas!”). Once you reach a certain age those numbers just don’t have the same significance.

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