Still enjoying your medication, I see.

Ugh.

Not feeling well. Got massively ill at about twelve-thirty. I think it was a migraine, but it came complete with a fever. It's gotten slightly better- the fever's gone and I can walk without feeling faint, but I'm still really nauseated, noises seem really, really loud, and my head hurts like a mother.

And I had to call in sick, which makes me feel horrible because I have this major guilt complex thing where I think I'm being a bad employee. Completely unfounded, by the way; I work for a lovely company that doesn't mind if you call in sick because they are not communists. And I've worked there a year and only had to leave once. Still. The guilt.

But as I was supposed to be there forty-five minutes ago and I currently am contemplating whether or not I have the energy to cross the room to the sofa, I'm thinking I would have had to leave anyway.

If it was not a biological impossibility, I'd swear I was pregnant. I'm always late, I'm exhausted even after ten hours of sleep, I get nauseated every day for no reason, I'm really irritable, some days I just feel like crying, and my boobs have gotten huge. I shudder to think how much money I'd be funneling into pregnancy tests every month if I slept around.

Not much has been going on lately. Went to Mickey's slightly-decimated-as-they-are-moving house on Thursday for birthday celebrations. And listened to Mickey wail and gnash her teeth about having to move to The New Mequon. Which only got slightly insulting (as I've lived in The New Mequon for eight years) after the third straight hour.

It was rather strange to see the pictures that haven't been moved since before I was born off the wall, thought.

Also? Adding coconut rum to green drinks makes them SO MUCH BETTER!!! I'd like to request that Mickey bring the fun rum and juice (because we always forget to buy some) to Fathers Day, if it is at all possible.

In book news, I finally read The Road, or Hailed As The Best Book Ever OMG. And holy no chapters, Batman, I HATED IT.

Oh. My. God. How. Depressing. Dead kids, dead dads, post-apocalyptic-ness.

So boring. SO BORING. I love most books, but this one. Damn. And it won the freaking Pulitzer Prize??? I read tons and tons of better books that came out last year. The Thirteenth Tale was amazing. The Whole World Over. Even The Emperor's Children had some redeeming value. And chapters. The no chapters really bugged me.

Oprah needs to step it up with her next book club pick. Oh, wait, I guess I mean the one after this one. Because she picked this book Middlesex, about a guy going through gender reassignment. Eww. I haven't sold a single one. Even Oprah can't push that baby.

My head's going to explode. I'm going to go lie down so at least it will explode onto a pillow.