serinde

I seem to be coming down with whatever Steve had. I woke up horrendously lassitudinous in the first place, but just chalked it up to the Bataan Death March that this past week has been; but as the day progressed I've had to keep running to the euphemism, and the thought of food is disgusting, and now I'm feeling the first opening volleys of stomach cramps and nausea.

Measures taken: 2 caplets of acidophilous, 1 anti-nausea pill stolen from Steve (since he is not needing them any more), and a bowl of sops (namely, a slice of plain toast with broth poured over). Also, I have burned sufficient STUN to make applesauce out of the half-dozen overripe apples going bad in the fruit bowl.

I CANNOT FUCKING WELL BE SICK THIS WEEK. Not for work and not for social reasons. I refuse and deny it.