atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,

#1985: O Lord am I sick

Chest cold, argh. Forget talking like Barry White; I sound like Barry White's cousin, the guy with the really deep voice. Mom can't stop laughing at how different I sound.

Anyway, I've got a fever and I'm coughing up yucky gunk, so I asked my brother to prescribe some antibiotics for me. "Do you feel like you've been hit by a truck?" He asked, trying to determine if this is viral or bacterial. I wouldn't be asking for antibiotics if I thought it was viral, but WTF do I know? I'm not the doctor.

I don't feel as if I've been hit by a truck. I took a shower before going to Walgreen's to pick up the medicine because I actually cared about my appearance. I don't feel well, mind you, but if I had the "hit by a truck" symptom I wouldn't have given a rat's ass about that.

How well my brain is working: I nearly started three paragraphs in a row with "Anyway," which is overly redundant. There's a limit to the use of parallel construction, even if you like that sort of thing.

Well, it sucks to get sick, regardless of what or why. I'm just glad I've got generic NyQuil caplets on hand. That stuff doesn't do much for me, but it does guarantee at least eight hours of unconsciousness, and rest is the best thing for you when you're sick.

"NyQuil NyQuil NyQuil! We love you, you giant fucking Q!" Denis Leary FTW. "I love that Q, don't you? What a great advertising idea: put a huge fucking Q on the box. People will get high and stare at it: 'The Q is talking to me! The Q is talking to me!'" One of my friends said the box ought to have a warning on it: "Do not listen to the Q."


* * *

This guy is trying to restore a tiny Mitsubishi van. It's a kei car, and it has a 2-stroke, two-cylinder engine. It's kind of neat.

* * *

This article on the impending failure of Keynesian Economics has too many smart words in it for my fevered brain to comprehend. Neither ibuprofen nor acetominophen are doing squat about my fever, so I'm just going to have to come back to this one later on and comment about it then. Sorry.

* * *

I'm not kidding: when I'm sick like this, I'm totally useless. I can't think straight and I have no energy or endurance. I admire people who can gut it up and function more-or-less normally when they feel like I feel right now. Or, rather, I have to wonder if they actually do feel this rotten.

And this isn't even as bad as it gets. No; the last time I was sick was in 2007, when I got the Pinoy Death Tonsillitis, and then I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. A truck being carried by a train. A train carrying a whole bunch of other trucks besides. That was bad. Four different antibiotics and three weeks of suffering--never mind.

And maybe I'm just a big vagina.

* * *

I finished dumping the second season of Haruhi to DVD tonight, though. It was only four episodes. Now there are four eps of the first season left, starting with the movie about "Mikuru the Combat Waitress".

[...the rest was just incoherent rambling, so I deleted it.]

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