We've been sick all week. The kiddo came down with it first, of course, with a really high fever that wouldn't come down, even with the advil/tylenol swap and baths and all that. I took him to the weekend clinic and they kept us there four hours! Conclusion: virus. Then I followed suit and got sick Monday night. At one point yesterday I woke up from a nap with a high fever and I was probably a little delirious but in my delirium I thought I was lucid enough to write and sent my ramblings to my editor at Culture Brats. They were a fucking trainwreck. I'm sure he appreciated them. I don't think I've written anything for him in a couple of weeks, I've been trying to remember and I cannot remember so maybe I'm still running a fever. I don't know. At least I haven't started babbling on about LOLcats and noodles or anything because I am having some pretty weird dreams, let me tell you.
But that's not the part that sucks. The part that sucks is that by the time I start to get sick, Chance is starting to feel a little better and he's bored and he obviously has no sympathy for his poor suffering mother who has diligently taken care of him while he's ill because when I decided that I just really needed to lie down on the couch he decided that was a good time to chuck pillow pets at me. Seriously?!