Catching up with Temp X...

When last we spoke, I was drawing mediocre bits of art and passing it off as a post. And then...I disappeared.  But I'm back.  Here's a recap of what happened to me over the course of the last week...

I never barfed.

Thursday (March 22): While sitting at my desk, enjoying the air-conditioned comfort and all the indirect sunlight one might expect from veal pen, I began sweating at my desk.  This was not prompted by anything in particular -- no great stress outside of the ordinary issues of life (so, a lot).  I thought nothing of it up until the point that I started to feel woozy.  So really it was a delay of about 2.7 seconds.  I finished the day up, went home and estimated I'd quickly achieved a fever of 114 (give or take a few).  And then the real sweating began.

Friday (March 23): Given my fragile economic state (and the fragile state of the economy), I went to work.  My entire day became one-long blur of Sudafed, Gatorade, work and people talking about something called The Hunger Games.  Since I'm not a 14-year-old girl, I zoned out completely during this discussion.  From what I could glean, I sounded like a rip-off of Logan's Run.  I guess I should have paid more attention as the movie made $152 million during its opening weekend.  But I was honestly more interested in the NCAA basketball tournament and the potential payoff for my $20 buy-in.  Kentucky beat Indiana (called it) and Kansas beat NC State (blew it).  Looks like I'll have to wait until next year.

I didn't sweat orange color

Saturday (March 24): Bed.  More Gatorade.  Bed. Watched the Gators crumble worse than the French in WWII (getting outscored 18-3 to close the game!).  Couldn't be happier.  Realized I'd had a load of laundry sitting in the communal washer for three days.  Figured I'd better retrieve it before mold started to grow on it.  Luckily the outside humidity level of 108 percent rendered the entire room nothing more than a swamp with a Chattahoochee stone floor desperately in need of re-Epoxying.  And no one had stolen my clothes either, mostly because old Russian women are shorter than me by about three feet.

Sunday (March 25): It rained.  I celebrated by watching Monty Python's Life of Brian.  I also wondered if I'd ever eat again seeing as that I'd not had an appetite since Friday.  Nope.  Still not hungry.  These pants are just about to fall off me, and no, I'm not hitting on you.

Wrong Jew.

Monday (March 26): First of all, it was Dog X's birthday.  So for all you assholes who forgot to send cards as he turns the big 10, screw you.  Convinced I might not ever feel the need to eat again and concerned that I was running out of breath walking to the shower, I decided to go the doctor.  Not having a regular physician, this made figuring out who to see an interesting choice.  It resulted in a odd combinations of picking someone based on his education, insurance coverage, proximity, Yelp stars and ethic background (his, not mine).  I picked a middle aged Jew who went to med school in Chicago.  Too much of a co-pay and a couple of prods and pokes later, I had a sinus infection.  Well, technically, I had the sinus infection before I walked in, but you get the point.  And then came the antibiotics.

A little like this

Tuesday (March 27): I'm not sure how to explain this in a way that makes it sound like I wasn't on drugs, the good kind, but I'll give it a shot.  I was sitting at work doing the usual thing when I had this sensation that someone was doing my work as me.  It's not that I wasn't getting the work done, it's that I wasn't really seeing through my eyes.  Someone had momentarily inhabited part of my body and was doing my work for me as I drank more Gatorade and wondered why we as a country don't mandate a better sick-leave program.  I then went home and immediately started a meth lab in my bathroom.

Wednesday (March 28): I worked, ate two full meals and took a nap.  Looks like I'm on the road to Wellville. 

And now you know where I've been.  Aren't you glad you asked?