02.28.05 :: 9:33 am

I had to be literally peeled out of bed this morning by Ryan and apparently I was hallucinating or talking in my sleep or something last night. Because I don't like to read directions on Nyquil bottles, I just down it and hope for the best.
I've been smacked by the flu and also the anvil of irony; when I was on immunosuppressants, I was healthy as an ox, and the second I'm off them - WHAP! - sickness.
Steady diet of tea infused with lemons and honey, chicken broth and crackers, and HBO In Demand.
I can't believe I'm at work right now. Tomorrow, Puff Daddy has to pick between three fragrances OR ELSE we do it for him.
The thought of presenting him with his options while in the midst of a bitter flu is making me want to hide under my down comforter until June.
Anyway. You know, it's gotta be a true test of a relationship's strength if your significant other one sees you at your absolute, snottiest, congested, unshowered stinkiest worst and still sticks around to spoonfeed you, throw out your dirty tissues, and change the channels. All the while, looking really pleased to do so.
I'm an asshole. Because I didn't fully realize how much he loves me until just fucking now.

Sinuses still seeping,
Sunday.

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