Ugh. I’ve been feeling iffy for days, and I’m supposed to drive to Milwaukee for class today, so I went to bed last night at a reasonable hour for me — 3 AMish — only to wake up at 7:30 with a gnawing feeling
in my guts and a lovely clammy sweat clinging to my skin. Yep, I’m pretty sure it’s the flu. I wish I knew who to thank — besides myself for living an oh-so-healthy and regimented life — but instead I’m just going to whimper quietly on my blog. I made the mistake of looking in the mirror when I got up to rinse the tangy taste of death out of mouth, and I can’t help but wonder why I can’t look like some Bronte heroine when I’m ill. Instead of a lovely pallor with two spots of painted high color, I look like a corpse with a case of hives. Woe is me . . . and so it’s shortly off to bed again.
