fever 'til you sizzle

[freckles_and_doubt]

Weird thing, bloggery. Nowhere else in the multiverse does a young lady arise betimes and wonder, "Hmmm. How can I be entertaining about mucus today?"

I woke up early this morning because I was sweating, shivering, nauseated, gibbering and probably gyring and gimbling in the wabe, too, if I'd only checked. I'd thought this Dreaded Lurgi was calming down, but apparently not. The Cthulhoid monster squatting in my sinuses is apparently a star vampire rather than the more expected shoggoth: it's clearly trying to burn me up from the inside out, leaving only a petulant skellington. I can only hope my students didn't misinterpret things as, panting, flushed and lightly sheened with sweat, I gave tut this morning with my mind clearly elsewhere.

In a swift and somewhat post-emptive strike I took said skellington, with associated fevered flesh, off to my Nice Doctor Lady, who stuck a sort of infernal instrument in my ear, muttered "Hmmm, yes, high fevers are always hell on adults", and proceeded to prescribe sufficient pharmaceuticals for me to start a small, localised drug franchise. I have cortizone tablets to eat by the fistfuls, presumably to either choke or soothe the star vampire, cortizone spray to stick up my nose, ditto, a cough mixture guaranteed to sit firmly on my chest all night and sternly suppress (in the Carrollian sense) the racking consumptive cough that's keeping me awake, and, most importantly, giant evil-looking antibiotic pills which will, if past experience is anything to go by, string me up mercilessly by the heels from the ceiling and rattle me until my mini-Cthulhoid monstrosities flee my nasal passages, whimpering, in a nasty slithering crowd. Bring on the big guns, says she, strapping herself firmly to the cannon.

I also wish to add, for the record, that I followed the estimable starmadeshadow's example in taking the What Be Your Nerd Type test currently burgeoning forth in my friends page. However, while the results are as expected, there is absolutely no way I can betray my litgeekdom by infesting my blog with the misplaced apostrophe in the result image. Nothing doing. Tchah.

And a quick BG fan update for the jo&stv: Amazon has dispatched. T minus 14 days.

Bunny Threat Level: Green grow the rushes, O! Flushed and panting notwithstanding, I'm not up to Angela Carter.

Comments

[ex-wytchfyn.livejournal.com]

What rough beast, it's hour come at last, slouches from your nose to be born?

[(Anonymous)]

erk! Hope you feel better soon!
everymoment.

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

You did that on purpose, didn't you, just to see me twitch? Bastard. There's no rough beast like a misplaced apostrophe. Taking advantage of my weakened state, pshaw.

nummy

[maxbarners.livejournal.com]

fivey (four and five).

mmm...

I can assure you

[bend-gules.livejournal.com]

that yours is the most entertaining blog about mucus I've read this winter, even including my own.

Far better than the usual garden-variety whingeing! it takes an expert to rise above the crowd. I tip my indoor hat, electric blanket and hot water bottle to you. :-)

Re: I can assure you

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Why, thank you, ma'am! I am proud to be pre-eminent among such august company. Although doesn't your hot water bottle make interesting gurgling and sloshing noises if you tip it...?