On this Christmas Eve — is it still OK to use that term in this country, goddammit? — my body is a battlefield for unknown pathogens vying for supremacy — if not total victory — over my body.
Since last night: two DayQuil tablets, six Tylenol Severe Cold tablets (I’d prefer Nyquil, but it no longer contains the very useful pseudoephedrine thanks to the sons of bitches who harvest it for crystal meth — may their labs blow up and incinerate them!), one aspirin, and about 300 tissues. I’m thinking of escalating this battle by calling in one Naproxen and one Cyclobenzaprine as reinforcements just before sleepy-bye. I’ll either get a good night’s sleep or an eternal rest. The way I feel right now, one is as good as the other.
This has been a very cheery post thus far, hasn’t it?
I hope those very few of you I like get everything you want this Christmas. And for those of you I despise, I hope you get what you deserve!
See you again after the battle — or in the infinite quantum soup (where I will probably be just as cranky — so watch out!).