picture this...

... monday:

(last week) i start feeling sick-ish.

tuesday:

i feel completely sick, no ish about it. the flu type of sick with all the aches and pains and fever and congestion that makes your head believe it will most certainly burst into a zillion gooey bits that absolutely no one is going to fancy cleaning up.

wednesday:

i am determined to get better. i start to feel slightly better. have a shower, get a little energy boost, things are looking up... oh. wait... there's that inability to make rational decisions again... i stay up til 7:30 am working, fall asleep for a mere 45 minutes before starting the new day.

thursday:

pretty sure someone broke into my house during those 45 minutes of sleep, drug me out into the street and drove no less than 27 monster trucks over my body. twice. and the fever was back. 

thursday night:

so i was playing a little guitar in bed and i set the guitar down on the floor next to the bed to avoid having to get up. i quickly forgot it was there. 20 or so minutes later someone knocked on the front door. i jumped out of bed, landing my left foot on the guitar that subsequently launched across the hardwood floor with enough momentum to catapult my entire self into the air, arms and legs flailing everywhere for what seemed like minutes - or at least long enough for me to become genuinely concerned about what the landing had in store for me and create detailed images in my head of all the gruesome variations of broken body parts i could end up with... and then a crash. my back, left elbow and right heel met the hardwood like i'd been shot from a cannon. no broken parts, just lots of hurting parts and bruises.

did you know you could bruise the bottom of your heel, the squishy part you stand on, the part who's job it is to absorb impact... you can.

friday:

ouch.

i'm all better now. time to catch up on life.