and if there's anything good about me - I'm the only one who knows

I seem to have caught some kind of bug—perhaps developed a ragweed allergy, summer to fall season change malady, who knows—I've been sleeping on and off all day and, save for water I drink when I take cold meds, I haven't had anything to eat or drink today. I know I say this all the time (at least whenever I get sick which, thankfully, is rare) but I am all kinds of whiny and pathetic when I'm sick, like why isn't someone at my bedside mopping my brow with a cool washcloth? Who do I have to sweet eye to bring me soup and Florence Nightingale me into health? Come on, I make good pancakes. 

This was my day: ughhhhhhhhhh, ok ok ok work times, what should I wear today? Should I go to work? I feel absolutely weary. Maybe I'll stay home. If I stay home then I can take it easy. Ok, I'll let them know I'm not going in. Maybe I should do laundry and clean. Sleep for three hours. Oh, goody, 15 text messages. Sleep for an hour. Oh, Todd Thrasher calling me now. Hiiii, Todd! No, I'm not at the Fair, I'm sick today. What? You need a cocktail sign for that benefit at Volt? I gotchu! Design sign, sleep for next three hours. Oh, Castle's playing, I've never seen Castle, maybe I'll watch Castle. Fall asleep during Castle. You had dinner with Lynne, Justin? I miss Lynne! No, I haven't eaten anything all day. Ugh, because I don't feel like it. Let me hop on a computer, I haven't really checked the things all day. Jack White singing in a French château? Done. 

On the upside, the "sick times" tag on Lemonade Lists can be quite hilarious after the fact. I should retitle it, “the ramblings of a madwoman on cold meds she probably doesn't need to be taking.”

Moonshine because I ball so hard.

Just kidding, it's Pedialyte, I'm dehydrated from the flu. 

[via text]
me: Man, it's like 90 degrees out and I'm going to be carrying around some soup.

Justin: Just beware that I'm not a barrel of fun today. 

me: You're always a barrel of fun. 

Justin: Today I am a barrel of Dayquil. 

me: Soon you will be a barrel of lentil soup.

Unnecessary blogging about being sick

• All I want is comfort food. Soups, mashed vegetables, anything hot. If you're looking for something fresh and healthy, keep on truckin'. 
• I toe the line between sleeping for sixteen hours and delusions of productivity. "I may be at home but I can definitely get this, this, and this done. After I nap."
• I tend to sporadically moan and groan. Walking up the stairs. Groan. Toothpaste cap won't twist right? Groan. You know that scene in When Harry Met Sally where Harry moans in bed for no reason? Bingo.
• As luck would have it, I only get sick once or twice a year and always during a deadline week. Hello, panic. You don't want to be near me when that happens.
• I look confused all the time. Blame it on the Nyquil, Dayquil, Mucinex, and Theraflu fog.
• What's that wheezing/whistling noise? Oh, that's me trying to breathe through my nose. 
• I start craving random food that involves more than twenty minutes of cooking time. Creamy polenta with braised oxtail sounds good. Chocolate chip cookies sound good. Hot and crusty Italian bread with runny brie sounds good (which doesn't actually require cooking but then I have to get dressed and go to the market. Nah, son. Too much work.). 

Update: Fuck it. Going out for bread, cheese, and the Ready to Bake Tollhouse cookies.