Stages of the Flu

Monday morning: My nose is running like crazy. Must be global warming — allergies in December!

Monday afternoon: Global warming, my ass! It’s freezing today. I think I’ll go put on a hooded sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants. And thick socks.

Monday evening: Shivering violently in bed. Why is death so tortuously slow? I already have rigor mortis from keeping my body in the fetal position to conserve body heat.

Tuesday morning: My head! My brain is on fire! My face is sweating! My teeth are chattering! I may have wet the bed!

Tuesday afternoon: “Please, everyone on Facebook and Twitter, get the flu shot right fucking now. You’ll thank me later but right now, just go! PLEASE! DO NOT LET ME DIE IN VAIN! SAVE YOURSELVES!”

Tuesday evening: “Children, I have asked your father to make sure that you brush your teeth once a week, and clip your fingernails at least once a month. Remember, I will always be watching you, and I will never approve of your relationships, so don’t even bother.”

Wednesday morning: Wow. I smell bad. Time to let the kids watch 8 uninterrupted hours of Netflix while I sleep more — after taking a shower.


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