I was feeling slightly off when we headed out to Sam’s Club yesterday. (I really despise Sam’s Club, but somebody bought us a membership, and like lemmings we go.) We’ve found the excessively long lines can be avoided by going on Sunday when the Saints are playing. So we went at noon, and by the time we finished I was feeling really out of it.
Got home, took a hot bath, crawled into bed. After lying down for an hour or so and burping with an almost mechanical regularity, I asked Xy to bring me a bucket, just in case. Good call, as it turned out, because an hour or two later I used that bucket. After that, the chills came on strong, and I spent the night in a semi-delirium. I suffered a recurring delusion that Barack Obama and his transition team had broken into our house and were replacing my body with an identical life-sized sculpture made of sugar — one particle at a time.
Feeling much better today. Staying home from work to sleep. Convenient, too, because Sears just delivered and installed our new stove. That will be a nice surprise for Xy when she gets home.