Birthday: Not So Great

Well, today was my birth­day; I’m 22 now, and I’ve been sick since some­time last week. I was orig­i­nally plan­ning on set­ting up some sort of din­ner thing for last Friday but some­how I became com­pletely inca­pable of send­ing e-mail to the peo­ple I wanted to send e-mail to, which turned out to be for the best because I was get­ting too sick by Friday evening to have done any­thing with any­one. I spent the week­end run­ning a mod­er­ate fever and lying in bed. The Liz came over and force fed me water and Tylenol while we watched movies and TV shows on my com­puter. In the end, I spent most of my birth­day in bed, watch­ing the BBC show Coupling, dehy­drated and with poor body tem­per­a­ture control.

Whatever, I’m 22 now and I’ve got a bot­tle full of peni­cillin, so hope­fully I’ll be ok in a lit­tle while.

4 Responses to “Birthday: Not So Great”

  1. Liz aka "Florence Nightengale" says:

    I like how you describe it as me sort of casu­ally com­ing over instead of spend­ing all week­end argu­ing with your grumpy, sweaty, some­tims dele­ri­ous self because you refuse to hydrate your­self. I get no respect, I tells ya.

  2. god says:

    Happy Birthday!

    I wish I had known, I would have sent you some cardboard…or something.

    Feel bet­ter.

    Sincerely,
    (It’s Ellen, I lied)

  3. Liz #2 says:

    Happy anniver­sary of the first day you were cov­ered in blood and other more hor­ri­ble flu­ids. It will not be the last! Muaha!

  4. i says:

    Happy Birthday, George! What’re you up to next year?

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