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I'd forgotten how hard Cephalexin hits me. Everything seems to take longer than it ought to and require more energy than it would take to bench-press a bus. Apparently there is a three-cornered rumble going on in my foot between the antibiotic molecules, the bacteria, and my white cells, and all my pain receptors are huddling on the floors of their apartments with their hands over their ears waiting for the shooting to stop. The idea of walking over to the Baker Block to do Weight Watchers and check the mailbox seems foolhardy...better just to huddle in my chair and play something loud and metallic so I can stay awake and not fall face first into the keyboard.

But I'm going to have to get up and go get lunch sooner or later, even if the idea of eating food makes me nauseous. So I might as well do the other stuff too.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
stuckintraffik
Nov. 19th, 2004 01:42 pm (UTC)
As long as we're both just trying to get to the end of the day, can you bring the projector screen to the meeting on Sunday, please?

Yeah. I have no idea how I constructed that either.
wombat_socho
Nov. 19th, 2004 02:26 pm (UTC)
You are hereby No-Prized for Best Use of a non sequitur In An LJ Comment.

Yeah, it's still in the back of the truck, so it should be no problem.
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