I haven't felt right since I got home from San Francisco. At first I thought I was just super tired, but no matter how much sleep I got, it wasn't enough. I even called in sick one day and did nothing but sleep. My sister told me it was my punishment for planning on calling in sick when I wasn't. But I didn't though - I did go into work on Tuesday. But I still was tired like you wouldn't believe.
I still haven't unpacked my suitcases yet, that's how bad it's been.
The house is a disaster, I can't remember the last time every single room was this bad.
Me - me who loves to catalogue books still hasn't even begun to do that yet.
The thought of food - ugh! Doesn't matter though as it's going right through.
I had to work yesterday and again today. I had a coworker feel my forehead yeterday and apparently I was burning up. I knew it!! But as I'm the only one doing the job on the weekends, I have to go in.
I'm not often sick and the odd times I am, it's not for this long.
One of the problems of living alone is not having anyone to whine too when one is sick so I'm whining here.
I'm sick and I don't like being sick.