Nice knowin' y'all
I think I'm dying. This must be what that damned bird flu feels like. To quote Master Yoda, "Like shit, I feel."
I dunno what the hell happened between typing up that post about the party and my getting upstairs, but it wasn't good. I was up most of the night (the dog's incessant whining certainly didn't help with that), tossing and turning. I eventually made myself throw up at around four, four-thirty, and I felt a little better after that, but still couldn't sleep for shit.
I just ache. Everywhere. I can't imagine how bad I'd feel if I'd have had more than just the two beers last night. I took some Tylenol this morning, which helped a little, too, if by "help" you picture one shaking and sweating through one's clothes.
We were supposed to do my birthday dinner tonight, but we've postponed til next week. I don't really feel like eating, anyway, and I don't want the kids around me right now.
Supposed to have cake tonight, too. I told my father, over the summer, maybe when the new movie was in theatres, I said I wanted a "Batman" cake. Haven't had a theme cake like that since I was probably in middle school. I was lookin' forward to seeing that. I'll have to get a picture. I hope it's the Bat-symbol from the new movie.
And that's all I know. Kind of a boring day for football. Michael J. Fox is the guest tonight on Inside the Actor's Studio, so that should be good. I think I'm gonna go lie down now.
Pray for me.
Fuckin' bird flu...