I've been sick all week. And for a variety of reasons, I haven't able to look for sympathy in very many places.
First of all, it's the season for it. Lots of people I know have been getting sick. Some of them, seriously sick. A friend of mine is now recovering from actual pneumonia, that put him in the hospital last week for two nights. So can't really complain there.
Then there's my rather substantial number of friends with young children. You can never complain about a lack of quality sleep with that crowd. You just can't do it. Doubly so when most of the kids have been sick themselves lately.
Maybe more than anything, it's the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm being a wuss about it. I really don't get sick very often. Maybe once a year or even less, I think? So naturally, when I do, it feels like Death himself paying a visit. It's a stupid head cold with a mildly annoying cough, not consumption or typhoid or whatever. Can't even really give myself sympathy, see?
I'm going to go knock myself out with Nyquil and sleep until dusk tomorrow.
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