I’m sick right now. Sick.
Not sick sick, of course. But still sick enough where my nose is all puffy and my eyes feel like boulders and I’m cold even though I’m sitting in front of the space heater cranked up to the erupting volcano level.
Also I’ve had enough caffeine to make me jittery and feeling like I’m going to break apart at the atomic level at any moment. Strangely, that also makes me uber-amped and prone to bursts of profanity. Case in point: I just used about seven inappropriate words in a thirty second conversation about cardboard boxes. And I don’t feel the least bit sorry about it.
I KNOW. Sickness is weird.
But I think best part about being functional sick is that it gives me carte blanche to do most anything to make myself feel better in order to be motivated. Chicken nuggets for breakfast, a second (or fourth) Diet Coke in two hours, half a box of Whoppers. I figure that as long as I keep myself medicated with sugar, caffeine, and fat, I won’t notice that there’s still almost an hour left in the workday and that I still have a seventy five item estimate to get through.
Besides, cinnamon rolls are totally just as effective as Tamiflu, right?
That’s what I thought.
