I think it may be the flu that has waylaid half of the island.*
Or it could be malaria.[*Yes I live on an island. No, not like Gilligan. More like the Professor. And Ginger kicks Mary Ann’s butt.]
It is important to note that I have a puke-free slate since ’88. (And I like things that rhyme… all the time.)
I am not a fan of puking. I know that is true for most people, but I am REALLY not a fan. When I’d get sick I’d be all “Oh my God…. Why me? Oh Lord? It’s not fair. Oh the humanity!!” etc. etc. I’d complain like a man walking down the green mile. Or one that has woken up on the business end of a naked Paris Hilton.
Even to this day, if I feel sick to my stomach, I’ll start the praying and the bargaining. Does it work? Since ’88, baby!!
I remember the last time I puked clearly because it was my birthday. And my Mom had gotten us tickets to go see the Harlem Globetrotters. Needless to say, I didn’t get to attend. Granted, the confetti in the bucket gag may have been wasted on someone who felt as crappy as I did, but I was still bummed.
Bummed and feverish.
You know those fevers where you feel like you are in a dream? You are stupified and can only watch things going on around you?
I’m not quite there yet, but I am definitely feeling the brain fog.
I think it was C. Everett Koop who said, “Blogging with a fever… that’s bad bananas, my friends.”
I could be wrong though.
The brain fog makes it hard to even write this entry. Of course some of you are probably thinking that it can only help the quality of my posts. But, that’s just mean. Where is the love? The love… the love…
Is it a bad sign that Justin Timberlake is the voice in my head?
And it is hard to write with brain fog. (Didn’t I type this same line 3 sentences ago? I am leaving this in.)
Maybe I should start wrapping this up.
I suppose the most important thing to take away from all of this is…
Cats have been known to try to seduce dogs.