School maundering, the great adventurer, and sick report...

Conversation with wildernessguru late last night about a wilderness trek he's planning with a new friend:

( The Great Adventurer )

( School Maundering )

Sick Report:

Day five and six - periodic bouts of fever; woke with my t-shirt freezing cold and soaked with sweat. WG was the same. Weak, dizzy. Taking the stairs to do laundry is out of the question. Some appetite has returned but little energy to fetch or prepare food (helloooo take out). Concentration is better: can read and sit up for an hour or two. Judgement sucks. Little stupid things, like I poured orange juice for WG and then realized I was going to have to splash down the ice cubes. Oi. Persistent cough. Sore throat, thank god, is tapering off.


P.S. This probably shouldn't make me feel better, but it does.

klymer1 informs me that based on our symptoms we have the same flu her family got. Her mom had received a flu shot but was just as sick as everyone else -- but the nausea hit her much harder. They ended up taking her to the hospital where the nurse explained that that this flu isn't one the shot innoculates against.

Aha. We would have been hit with this no matter what.

Unfair.

It's unfair that I get the nausea while WG can wolf down *mffph* barbeque *rllph* chicken wings.

I'll be over here with my bucket.

I'm going to make myself feel better by posting a little of Out Of Bounds. So there.

New Year's? I take it back.

By the way, I take back all of my complaining about WG falling asleep on New Year's Eve. He was coming down with this flu -- of course he fell asleep. Poor sweetie.

It's 8:48 now and I just looked at myself. I'm curled up on the couch with my legs up, hands curled to my chest, looking somewhat like a dead bug, clinging to my last few hours of winter break.

And I can't do it. I have to go to bed. Only when we're sick do we understand someone else who's sick.

In other news: anyone ever notice that male neighbors are louder than female neighbors? Generally? It's the little things. The unconsciously slammed door. The toilet seat bang. The power saw....

Well, the power saw is a new one on me, but that's definitely a power saw I hear, followed by that definitive clunk of wood hitting the floor (heh, I bet the folks below him are loving that). If I'm awake and it's still running at 10pm, we're going to have a chat. But it begs the question: is he building his own furniture?