There’s so much to do and my brain is a loose cluster of goo right now. I spent most of the day curled up in bed shivering and sweating. I had a few minutes of lucidity this afternoon, during which I forgot to call the wedding caterers, so I’m in the doghouse for that. We’re planning on calling it an early night, so we’re gonna miss the President’s State of the Union Address and the corresponding drinking game.
On the other hand, alcohol is not my friend right now. I’m already slow and shaky, physically weak and mentally confused with a distressing combination of sweating and shivering. If I had to take a drink every time Bush mentioned Iraq or Saddam I’d be dead in no time.
As it is, I slept most of the day and I’m still exhausted. I’m not sleepy, just tired, if that makes any sense. I’m used to drifting off to sleep as a gradual exercise. Tonight I’ll be comatose as soon as I’m horizontal. Not that that’ll stop my conversational abilities.
Didn’t I mention that I talk in my sleep? The worst part is that I’m interactive for the whole thing, so there’s no way of knowing when I’ve actually fallen asleep. It’s amazing, the things you discover during 1 AM question time. Once when we were relaxing on the futon at my Fiancee’s condo I drifted off… I have no idea what the conversation we had was about, but I woke up with strange sense of impending drowning. I had a glass of water in my hand and a mouth full of water that I managed to choke down. The only clue that she had that anything was wrong was when I announced, “Apparantly, I have a glass of water.”
It seems I’d overheard one of the kitties drinking from their water dish, and thought it’d be a good idea to have something to drink too…
Sometimes though, I signal my unconsiousness by wandering off into strangely surreal dreamland in the middle of an otherwise ordinary conversation. For example, we had been talking about our favorite foods while growing up, and I mentioned my Dad’s grilled peanut-butter sandwiches. “They’re just like grilled cheese, but with peanut butter…”
“Were they good?”
“Yeah… And they helped pay the cartooning debt.”
“Cartooning debt?”
“For the honorary UFO guys in the flying chairs…”
So yeah… I’m not looking forward to sleep tonight. When I’m sick I have strange dreams, and I’ve got no idea if I’ll be narrating them or not… Let’s hope not.
G’night.
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