Feeling like poop, guys. It’s going to be a short one tonight, entry-wise. Not quite feeling the same rush of energy I did yesterday, I’m afraid. I do believe I’ve gotten worse from yesterday. This cold is legit. Not the one or two day variety. I’m sitting here right now listening to Demi Lovatto and realizing I probably have a fever.
Fevers are the freaking worst, right? They ruin everything. I mean, theoretically the ruin the invading pathogen too, that’s why we HAVE them in the first place, but damn. They suck the life out of me. Being in bed for two days sounds so good when we’re healthy and busy and tired and wishing we just had some time to relax and get some rest, but being sick is NOT RESTFUL. Especially with a fucking fever. Nothing is comfortable. Everything hurts. It’s the worst.
I did do my writing, and I did make up the work I missed back on Friday from being sicky sicks. So that’s good. I just remembered that I need to leave a note for my poor video editors waiting on voice-overs from me that I’m out of commission for another couple days voice-wise. Anything I record till I get my voice back would be pretty much unusable.
Uuuuuuggghhhhh. Hopefully this headache I’ve recently acquired in the past few minutes will go away as well.
So much complaining. Jesus. It’s a cold. You’d think I was dying.
And with that bit of self-realization, I think it’s best I tuck this entry to bed and do the same myself.
Pray for my soul, good readers.
Artwork tonight, the sunset of my life (bc I’m currently dying), is by Andrew C. Stewart.