Right now, I think I have the worst cold I’ve ever had. I was up all night last night, and this morning, writing is not a flow activity.My cat is trying to write for me, and she’s further off than I am. Time to go back to bed.

Not Ready to go Back

I’m not sick enough to stay home from work today, but I am really tired. I am falling asleep on my seat here in front of the computer. But it’s time to go back to work, because I’m well enough. My fever is gone and I can breathe.

I will push myself to go back. If I fall asleep in class, so be it.

Contractual Obligation

It’s actually my 91-day writing streak on WordPress. And I’m still sick.

See you tomorrow.

I’m sick.

I think I have the flu. You don’t need to care; I just don’t to break my 84-day writing streak on WordPress.

Day 3 of COVID

I guess I’m not all better. I thought heck, day 3 of COVID and I’ll be back to normal. My nose is even less stuffy than it’s been. It’s just a severe cold.

Then I got up to write this blog. Suddenly I’m shaky, tired, and altogether ~~unfit for prime time~~^1.out of it. I needed to get out of bed, though, because my time in bed had starved me of light and life.

So I sit next to a sunny window that’s so perky it’s making me a little grouchy. “It’s bright! It’s sunny!” Look, it’s 29 degrees out and I’m sick. Can you deliver me a hot toddy to help me get through this?

I’m too tired to be bored and too bored to be tired.

Time to write. Or fall asleep. Or something.

Back before there were streaming services, there was this thing called television. Television shows had their own time slots, and you could only watch them during those times. The slots in the evening, from 7 to 9 PM, were known as prime time slots. Obviously, television companies showed their best shows then to get the best audience numbers and make their advertisers (where the money came from) happier. If a show was outside of prime time, they did not expect it to perform well in the prime slots. Therefore, unfit for prime time means “not at my best” with a hint of “not presentable.”

My first bout with the flu

I should never have said “I never get the flu” aloud. I should never have assumed that my yearly employee benefit shot in the arm would fail to work. I should never have said never —

I’m dealing with my first case of bonafide flu in probably thirty years.

While I’m marking my list of “nevers” off with red pen, I also haven’t run a fever above 100 degrees since I was three (during an oldie but not goodie flu vaccine of the mid 1960s). Now I’m all bundled up in a 70 degree room with shivers and a 100.9 fever. That’s flu, right?’

I stayed home yesterday, hoping that a day of rest would fix that cold of mine. This morning, I woke up with a voice that sounded and felt like I’d chain-smoked and swilled bad whiskey (neither of which I do, to the relief of my students.) I went to work anyhow thinking that my morning temp of 98.9 would hold for the day because I couldn’t possibly have the flu. I had (and still have) the chills and my temp (as I mentioned) is 100.9 degrees, My nose sounds like it’s harboring a rain frog that makes little grumbling noises every time I exhale. My chest hurts from all the coughing (but I never get chest symptoms), And did I mention that I kept 3 1/2 hours of office hours and taught two classes in this state?

I’m going in tomorrow unless we’re looking at 100 degrees or higher just before I go to work. I figure that I’m probably going to be fine, because I never, never, NEVER get the flu.