I’m not one of those sweet sickies who curls up on the couch with fluffy blankets and watches bad movies until I feel better.

Oh, no.

Instead, I gather every electronic device I own onto my bed until it looks like a Radio Shack crapped on my cat hair-infested night nest. I proceed to shout “Fuck!” at my laptop between explosive coughs. Periodically I make this sick goat noise as I hold my hand over my watering eye. (Fact: It’s always the right eye.)

The cats sleep through this. Only because they have magic sleeping powers.

Being sick makes me maudlin and punch-drunk. I drink too much tea and curse God. If I don’t take a Kleenex into the bathroom, I wind up using a huge wad of toilet paper just to blow my nose.

And I worked. Stupid damned thing I had to do for work. But not tomorrow. I sleep tomorrow.

And maybe now. Yeah, sleep sounds good now.

Have a good Nyquil, everyone!