Sunday, April 13, 2008

sick as poo

I called in sick to the dayjob on Thursday and Friday. Strike that. I e-mailed sick. I didn't even spell check it: "I'm sik [sic]." I don't feel obligated to delve into symptoms. I'm not going to be there, okay? I felt terrible and what a relief! Back to bed. How weird is that? Those circumstances where I'd rather a virus attack my body so I can sleep for another 5 or 9 hours. Would I really rather be unconscious, oozing phlegm, unable to swallow, than get on the downtown train? Yes. Yes I would. Very much. On my deathbed, which I hope isn't tomorrow but you never know, I might look back on these thoughts, these foolish thoughts of youth, when I forsook my good health. And of that I think - god, old people are annoying.