Dec 15, 2005

Festivus Pole, The Trots, And Why I'm Not At Work

Wow, what a promising beginning. Temptation of three different subjects, and I just spent half an hour on blogclicker trying to get my traffic up. Damn but it's going to be a hot time in the old Irrelephant tonite!

Okay, so it's midmorning, not tonight. And it's cold as a well-digger's balls, so it's not going to be all that hot this morning. My bad.

Does anyone else hate the sentence "It's going around..."? I hear that a lot here of late, since I, in fact, have the "it's" that is going around. Doctors, it seems, cannot accurately diagnose everything. Someone comes into the hospital with a stomach that feels like a stone, nausea, low grade fever and diarrhea, and that person is followed by fifteen more with the exact same symptoms, they can't put a finger on what it is, so it's "a virus. It'll pass." Which then becomes "The 24 Hour Bug," or in layman's terms, "It's going around."

I slept yesterday, to help the old temple heal. I slept a lot. I think I was awake for a grand total of 4 hours yesterday, and then slept all last night. Today I have had enough sleep to wire a sloth, so the day is passing with that agonising slowness that makes you wish you were at work, just so you could be DOING something. In my case, however, it'd be running down the hall to the restroom every half hour. I'm not well enough (nor safe enough) to go traveling anywhere, and have no money anyway, and I'd just be a plague dog to everyone around me, so here I sit, trying to stay warm.

So, it's going around. Does that frighten anyone else? Nobody seems to know what "it" is, other than some sort of virus that suddenly decided to mutate just right, become virulent as the Bubonic, and go spreading 24 hour destruction in it's wake. It leaps easily from person to person, infects them for a day and a night give or take, and then...what? Dies? Becomes somnulent? Goes on holiday? I cannot help but think of malaria; one infection and you've got it for good. What if this stuff reappears twenty years from now as some sort of super pandemic plague that makes Mad Chicken Disease look like an ice cream sundae with extra nuts?

*sigh* I've got too much time on my hands.

So here I sit, sore all over, stomach still feeling like it's full of pea gravel, my intestines hate me with a passion, and I couldn't sleep if you hit me with a Festivus pole.

Yeah, you knew I'd get around to it. But I'm not a Seinfeld fan at all, have never seen the episodes, and know about it only because TBS likes to run the "Happy Festivus" commercial every twelve and a half seconds. I had to research it to know what the heck was going on. And now there's guys all over the world making ALCOLA that much richer by selling 6' tall aluminum poles, ready to be placed in tree stands in apartments all over the world. There is no justice in the world.

It's only 10 am. I feel like I've been up since 1982. I'd nap if I could, but somehow I doubt it's going to happen. And somehow I doubt I can possibly blog until tomorrow.

Kids, it's going to be a long day.

2 comments:

Vulgar Wizard said...

Uhm, I hate to point out the obvious, but you trot down the hall to the restroom every half hour when you're not sick....

sorry, you left yourself open for that one.

We miss you at the office. I keyed visits yesterday (two batches) and orders today. Lazy Susan brought you (and everyone else) a gift. It's on your desk. I filled out two PTO forms for your sick days. They're in the visit pocket on your desk. Sign them whenever you get back.

And your lovely wife brought us a cake this morning. And she bought me off with peanut butter cookies that she's certain you won't be eating anytime soon.

You gonna come back tomorrow????

Irrelephant said...

Yes, but not with this certain level of anxiety, pain, and dumbstruck anger. *s*

Yeah, she's good that way. I ate NOTHING yesterday, and little today. Simply not ready for food yet.

Aaah, a Cankle Gift. Hold me back. Oooh. Wow.

And yes, I'll be back tomorrow--today is making me CRAZY.