Okay, I’m tired of being sick now. Make it stop. I’ve learned my lesson.
The antibiotics are pretty powerful, but I’m still covered in these spots and don’t know how long they’re going to last. They itch more at night for some reason. Maybe they’re nocturnal alien pods.
My ankle wound is already looking a lot better, which is to say it’s only slightly less icky than most icky things you would not like attached to your body. I would like to be 100% healthy for Hallowe’en. That’s my goal, it being my first anniversary with the MSG and all.
Being sick means watching too much television. I am so weary of commercials, yet still appreciative of Comedy Central. Bill O’Reilly on “The Daily Show” was much less entertaining than I expected, considering Jon Stewart on “The O’Reilly Factor” was so hilarious.
Zen is informing me in her unsubtle manner that the litter-box needs to be cleaned. I’ll try to accommodate the littlest dictator, and then sleep. Goodnight, nocturnal alien pods. I hope not to see you in the morning.