Vaccination and Deep Thoughts

In order that I may continue to make insensitive jokes, I got the H1N1 vaccine today. It was gross. Probably not as gross as the flu itself (what with the puking and pain and whatnot), but I really hate when people squirt stuff up my nose. This aversion is precisely the reason I don't do cocaine. Well, that and the fact that I'm not into drugs other than alcohol, caffeine, and ibuprofin.

But anyway, after I was attacked with a live virus (Does this mean that I'm going to get sick? Oh no! If I kiss Matt, and he didn't get the mist, am I going to give him the Swine?), I started to have very deep thoughts. Deep thoughts don't usually come to me, but I really got to thinking.

You know how Lieutenant Dan had invested Forrest Gump's Bubba Gump Shrimp Company money in some fruit company?

And how he called Forrest to tell him that they didn't have to worry about money no more? And Forrest said that was good, "one less thing."

Man, I bet Forrest and Dan are doing REALLY well now. Little Forrest isn't ever going to have to work if he doesn't want to.

Happy Hump Day!

I'm going to go research what I can and can not do now that I've introduced a live and deadly virus into my body.

Sorry I touched your baby at Wal-Mart. . .

A gem from STFU Parents.

The thing is, I have to be drunk to be able to handle stepping foot into a Wal-Mart. I also have to be drunk to want to touch a [disgusting, screaming, snot-nosed, disease-carrying] baby.

Here's the aforementioned sign.

ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME? (P.S., I maintain that the reason that Matt and I are pretty healthy--with the exception of our being grossly fat--is that we don't use hand sanitizer or go nutty about germs. I've taken this even farther by refusing to shower and by allowing Mitch to wash all of our dishes. I'm sure I'll eat these words soon, and soon you'll be hearing about how we've all come down with The Swine.)

Matt's response: "Hey, and if you're a germaphobe, don't take your baby to the dirtiest place on the planet. . .'Oh, hey, we were at the dump and someone touched my baby!'"

Sickfest

This week has been a bit of a a suckfest sickfest for me. I've been sick since Monday, not crazy sick or hospital sick, but sick enough to be unhappy.
And I've been a whiny baby about it. I've used my sort-of illness as an excuse to:

• be a bitch
• eat too much
• skip exercising
• revert to bad habit of coma naps
• whine
• procrastinate at work

I've also developed a new compulsion--taking my temperature. I'm obsessed. I take my temperature approximately 30 times per day (current temperature, 99.6). It's the very first thing I do when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I do before I go to bed. I keep thinking of the sitcom episode--I believe it was an early Full House--where the child (DJ?), attempting to stay home from school, put the thermometer up to the light bulb and got it to read something like 110 degrees. I'm really not far past that. I repeatedly take my temperature, sticking the thermometer in different parts of my mouth to find which part is the hottest. I won't take my temperature if I've just taken a sip of a cold drink, but I love to take it if I've just eaten something hot.

And, honestly, I'm kind of rooting for a fever. Isn't that stupid? Basically, I feel that if I'm going to be uncomfortable and unable to breathe at night, I should also be able to stay home from work, sleep all day, whine, and make Matt fetch things for me and pet my head.

But, alas, no staying home for this girl. Not me, not now (Remember the abstinence campaign on the radio that had that as its slogan? I'm pretty sure I have a homemade tshirt with the same saying!) It's too early in the school year to be out of work. Plus, I'm saving sick days for the swine flu, which I will almost certainly get because of all of the jokes I made last spring.

Here's hoping that you are feeling better than I am.

Current temperature, 99.3. Oh, what a roller coaster!