I am sick.
Whatever this virus is, it has kicked my saggy butt. Hard.
I missed school Thursday afternoon AND Friday all day. This is not the way I roll. I have to be "really most sincerely dead" to call in sick.
And then I had to postpone a visit from Deb and Betsy, who I was really looking forward to spending time with today.
All the while I kept thinking, surely tomorrow I'll wish I hadn't cancelled because I'll be feeling totally better.
Nope. I've spent most of today comatose (without the aid of drugs, mind you) in bed. My poor dog is horribly confused; she can't allow me to be in bed without her, but she needs to go to the bathroom periodically, and yet she MUST stay with me, and yet she MUST GET UP... if I so much as twitched my foot, she leaped three feet into the air in hopes I would let her outside, but if anyone else tried to get her to go outside, she refused. The most co-dependent animal I ever met, I swear.
I went ahead and made arrangements for someone else to take my place at church tomorrow. At this rate, though, I'm hoping I will feel like going to work on Monday morning. It doesn't look promising.
Do y'all ever have bizarre dreams when you're sick? I had some super-freaky ones today, mostly involving being lost in Des Moines. As if that were even possible.
I quit taking meds yesterday thinking that they might've been what was making me feel so bad. Nah. I still feel like overcooked spaghetti.