Again.
Sweet mother of the almighty lord of peanut butter, WHY.
I think this is the 11th or 12th time I'm sick this year. This year. It's not even been six months in, and I've already been sick more than ten times. I don't know the exact number since I stopped counting at ten.
I got sick during Christmas, after Christmas, around Valentine's, on the way to New York, in New York, when we got home from New York. I quit counting, I give up.
So now I'm attempting to rest, but when I'm sick, I really can't rest because it's a very light sleep. And I suck at sleep. I'm one of those vampiric creatures of the night that needs absolute quiet and absolute darkness. I can't even sleep with the light of the alarm clock, I have to cover it. So sleeping during the day, not really going to happen. So I guess it's either try to plough through the concert pictures (if Tsuki the dying Powerbook can handle it) or try to walk to town (if I can handle it without passing out in the 100+ degree weather).
Crap. I'm running out of Ricola.
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