It started out with only a little sinus drainage leading to a moderately-tingling-to-slightly-sore throat, but that didn't stop me from enjoying my day trips. Then the sore throat ramped itself up to a step above annoying. Then my head turned into pudding, which made Friday's band practice real fun. By the time I got home Friday night, I was spent, except for maybe trying to figure out revenge plans for the person who infected me.
Instead of hanging with friends, making grand strides on my research agenda, perfecting my guitar playing, or even getting ahead on lesson planning, I instead got to finish Spring Break in a state of pure sickness. Productivity, socializing, creativity, all that went out the window. I became a cliche of sorts, swigging dayquil as a wino would attack a fresh bottle of Ripple, curling on the couch under my blankie, vacantly gaping at the television, and generally taking moaning to an Olympic level. Luckily, my darling spousal unit was as kind as usual--if I would've had to put up with a sick me, I would've slapped myself after five minutes--but then again, as anyone whose met her will tell, my spousal unit is infinitely tougher than I.
About the best thing that can be said about the weekend is that I got to really explore some of the crannies of my burned dvd collection. Several Woody Allen films? Check. Indoctrinate spousal unit into the cult of Raging Bull? Check. Watch a seemingly never-ending parade of 50s-60s monster movies while serially tweeting? Oh, you better believe it.

Of course, none of this is knowledge which I will never really have an opportunity to apply...which, now that I think about it, is probably a metaphor for my life in some way.
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