Feeling: crappy and snuffly and scratchy
Listening to: Dispatch - Bats in the Belfry
Reading/Watching: The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory

Of all the nights to feel like crap, it's tonight.

I felt fabulous (albeit exhausted) the week before Christmas, when I would have given my right arm for a day off (especially since I'm left-handed). I was fine and dandy last night, when I had absolutely nothing to do but sit around at home and let Mother Nature kick me in the 'nads (yay, girlytime).

But tonight, when Bork has his show that I promised to go see? Tonight, when I was going to bring him his Christmas present and stay up late having fun? Tonight, I feel like ass, and want nothing more than to take 38 NyQuil and pull the sheets over my pounding, stuffy, scratchy-voiced head.

I'd love nothing more than to call in sick to work tomorrow, but since I've seen my managers only go home after they spent their lunch break shivering from fever on a breakroom couch, I would feel guilty about calling in sick when I'm anything short of bedridden.

Then Nimsay had to go and say "If you do wind up being too sick to go to work tomorrow, you can still come over and hang out with me. I'll let you drink all my tea."

Because that's an incentive to maintain a good work ethic.

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