I'm still sick. No fever now, but I'm freezing.
The ROOFERS (mythical creatures in Florida -- sitings are reported in the local papers. Neightors gather around to watch. Some of them take pictures and burn candles in front of them, hoping to have a visititation to their houses soon) have arrived and are at this moment stomping over my head scraping off our evil bad hurricane permiable shingles in a black and grey rain outside the windows. Soon the roof will be naked and the pounding of air hammers will begin. Pound poundy pound, like I've been hearing for weeks all over the neighborhood, only this time right on top of my head.
I'm debating heavy sedation.
This latest bout of dissease means another missed rehearsal for chorus. That's 4 this season. I don't know the songs and I'm having doubts that I'll sing in the concert at this point, unless I get well fast and have time to buckle down and learn my music. If my voice comes back. So far, I can't even do frog imitations.
Oh, and my back hurts. My head hurts. Whine whine, poor me, pitiful, wah.
By the way, read The Devil's Panties. It's (not) Satanic Porn. And Jen feels about David Mack the same way I do (just put him and some butter on toast and leave me in the room, eh?) (Oh, and yes, I DO read Kabuki...occasionally...it's pricy and cuts into my manga budget...must read manga....manga preeeetttyyyy)