Apparently there was some kind of virus incubating in my room that I’ve disturbed with my packing, perhaps hidden twixt the pages of seldom opened books, or perhaps napping against the window on the bus exposed me to a previous passenger’s infection.
In other words, I’m sick, at exactly the worst time to be so. I spent Tuesday night in a trifecta of horribleness, a racking cough, repetitive attack dreams (spreadsheets! I was dealing with repetitive spreadsheets that were incorrect and had to be perfect or the website would explode! Over and over and over and over again, each one waking me up full of stupid unnecessary stress), and sleepwalking (not fun when you have a loft bed). Plus there was a dash of fever.
Wednesday, thus, wasn’t as much of a day as it was a haze. I stumbled through somehow and got myself home where I promptly fell asleep… only to awaken the next day at 6am. I slept for 12 freaking hours!
So I’m now still a little sick, but can’t afford to do anything about it. After all, tonight I have to make sure that everything is packed for tomorrow- when I finally move. Blarghal.
But yay, new place!