Never Get Sick. Ever.
November was the equivalent of hell for me.
For the last couple months, I've been involved in a germ-warfare race with my friend Jess. Despite our living on different continents, we've been one-upping each other over who can get the virulentest plague. I have the flu for a day, she has it for two. I get a chest cold and miss a day of work, she misses two-and-a-half. I thought I'd won, finally, with my antibiotic-mandatory lung infection, but then I saw her post this to my profile:
"My throat is like hairy sandpaper. I feel like a woman who has been smoking for 30 years. I sound like a tranny. Damn the lurgy!"
I like having a lurgy support network, but I still feel sorry for her.
So instead of doing what I normally do, that being go out and see shows and meet people and drink and smoke a lot and generally acting like a damn fool, and not particularly healthy, I decided a month ago to buy a computer game, to give myself an excuse to stay at home. As of this writing, Scrotch the undead rogue, on the World of Warcraft server Agamaggan, is at level 38 and is in serious need of some more blue items, especially a dagger and a one-handed sword, so I can kill Alliance players easier (they wipe the floor with me now).
That is pathetic. I am ashamed of myself.
Even worse, it didn't work. I kept getting worse and worse the entire month, even though I didn't really do anything except sit at home and play that dumb computer game. (Dumb because when I play a computer game, I like it to consist of less than 50% running around looking for something that I know where it is but can't quite remember, unless it's actually somewhere else entirely and I'm thinking of that one of the other 19 things I have to do before I level again and they turn grey and useless to me. This is fun? It sounds like being an accountant. Oh wait, there's a whole economic system built into the game too. Bleh.) Eventually I decided to listen to people and went to go see a doctor, who gave me a scrip for the afore-mentioned antibiotics, which did make me feel better but ruined my ability to interact with family at Thanksgiving, which made my mom yell at me.
Beth at the Reptile Palace told me last weekend that she thinks she's getting the same thing I had. "Stop smoking right now," I told her, and in a very subtle gesture she expressed the value of my advice while deriding it as futile, given that she owns a bar, and the Palace at that. "I pretty much have except for here," she answered. Myself, I'm getting back into the usual things, except my alcohol tolerance has crashed and burned. Fortunately my drink of choice has the octane of high test gasoline, so I'm sure I'll get back into it soon enough.
Things to look for this weekend include something called the Salty Dogs Bluegrass Happy Hour at the Palace (no cover 6p Friday -- I'm hoping they're playing later also, because I like bluegrass, and I really like the name, but I doubt the paper will approve of me hanging out at a bar during my break) and the Dr. Kickbutt vaudeville-style (think Muppet Show) 'performances' at the New Moon ($5 8p Saturday) and a local school ($5 individual $10 family 3p Sunday).
For the last couple months, I've been involved in a germ-warfare race with my friend Jess. Despite our living on different continents, we've been one-upping each other over who can get the virulentest plague. I have the flu for a day, she has it for two. I get a chest cold and miss a day of work, she misses two-and-a-half. I thought I'd won, finally, with my antibiotic-mandatory lung infection, but then I saw her post this to my profile:
"My throat is like hairy sandpaper. I feel like a woman who has been smoking for 30 years. I sound like a tranny. Damn the lurgy!"
I like having a lurgy support network, but I still feel sorry for her.
So instead of doing what I normally do, that being go out and see shows and meet people and drink and smoke a lot and generally acting like a damn fool, and not particularly healthy, I decided a month ago to buy a computer game, to give myself an excuse to stay at home. As of this writing, Scrotch the undead rogue, on the World of Warcraft server Agamaggan, is at level 38 and is in serious need of some more blue items, especially a dagger and a one-handed sword, so I can kill Alliance players easier (they wipe the floor with me now).
That is pathetic. I am ashamed of myself.
Even worse, it didn't work. I kept getting worse and worse the entire month, even though I didn't really do anything except sit at home and play that dumb computer game. (Dumb because when I play a computer game, I like it to consist of less than 50% running around looking for something that I know where it is but can't quite remember, unless it's actually somewhere else entirely and I'm thinking of that one of the other 19 things I have to do before I level again and they turn grey and useless to me. This is fun? It sounds like being an accountant. Oh wait, there's a whole economic system built into the game too. Bleh.) Eventually I decided to listen to people and went to go see a doctor, who gave me a scrip for the afore-mentioned antibiotics, which did make me feel better but ruined my ability to interact with family at Thanksgiving, which made my mom yell at me.
Beth at the Reptile Palace told me last weekend that she thinks she's getting the same thing I had. "Stop smoking right now," I told her, and in a very subtle gesture she expressed the value of my advice while deriding it as futile, given that she owns a bar, and the Palace at that. "I pretty much have except for here," she answered. Myself, I'm getting back into the usual things, except my alcohol tolerance has crashed and burned. Fortunately my drink of choice has the octane of high test gasoline, so I'm sure I'll get back into it soon enough.
Things to look for this weekend include something called the Salty Dogs Bluegrass Happy Hour at the Palace (no cover 6p Friday -- I'm hoping they're playing later also, because I like bluegrass, and I really like the name, but I doubt the paper will approve of me hanging out at a bar during my break) and the Dr. Kickbutt vaudeville-style (think Muppet Show) 'performances' at the New Moon ($5 8p Saturday) and a local school ($5 individual $10 family 3p Sunday).
posted by BlackAndy at 2:26 PM
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