There's being a hero at work when you have a cold or a flu, and then there's being a hero when you have pneumonia. In the last week, I've discovered I'm neither kind.
Each day has been exactly like the day before. Get up at 5am. Start watching the Battlestar Galactica marathon on the SciFi channel. Drift asleep. Be awakened at 7am by an instant message from Blondage, who's promising to bring me soup. Watch more BSG. Sleep some more. Answer a couple of truly asinine inquires from people at work. Collapse. Bodily threaten the woman who gave me my original flu thing. Take an antibiotic horse pill. Get seriously woozy. Graciously accept Blondage's second or third cancellation, I'm not sure anymore. Sleep some more. Eat some Campbell's tomato soup. Wonder how on earth I've already watched ten hours of BSG today. Sleep some more. Repeat.
Special mention goes to Katrina, who visited me a couple days ago and bitched about work for 90 minutes. Remember how much you hated it when you had pneumonia and a work meeting broke out in your living room? No?