Notebook - January/February, 2002 February 25, 2002
Current temperature (outside): 47
Current temperature (me): 102.2This Notebook is going to be brief, as I can't sit at the computer too long. This has been a week of fever, body aches, chills, coughing, and general exhaustion. Which is really odd, because I see below that my previous Notebook was also about being sick. That was just a 48 hour thing. This is a complete, wall-to-wall, get the thermometer out, get the doctor on the phone, eat Advil like their M & Ms assault. I'm so tired I don't even want to go back to correct the "their" typo I just made in the last sentence. Food I can eat: ginger ale, popsicles, broth. Food I can't eat: everything else, especially dairy products like ice cream and milk. I thought I could eat ice cream when this first started (you know, the old "being sick= eating ice cream" theory we develop as kids), but I found out that I couldn't keep that down. BOY, did I find out. But I won't go into horrible detail.
Until next week, that is. I'll tell you all about it, and what I did to pass the time (hint: it involved a couch and a television). See you then.
January 7, 2002
Today's startling discovery: I've been doing this web page since the summer of 1996!
Why is this news, you ask? Because for the past year or so I've been under the impression, for some reason forever lost to that mystery called "time," that I've been doing it since January, 1997. I had even planned this swanky new redesign to coincide with the January, 2002 "5th Anniversary." But it seems I've missed my 5th Anniversary, by several months. Oh, well.
Happy Almost 6th Anniversary! Does that make some sort of web pioneer? (Answer: no)
I'm wiped out. I have what you have. Or, what you had a couple of weeks ago or what you will have next week. Trust me, if you haven't had it or don't have it now, you will get it, and soon. You'll wake up each morning with a scratchy throat that feels like you've been sucking sawdust through straw the entire night. You'll be tired, and your body will ache like you just worked out for the first time since high school gym class. And, if you're lucky, all of that will be accompanied by a cough. Not a dry cough, but one of those coughs caused by dripping phlegm you can feel at the back of your throat. Every cough will make your head hurt, an Emeril Lagasse-sized BAM that will make you reach for the Advil, until you realize that it's not really a headache, but just something that comes and goes with every *cough* *cough* *cough* that comes out of your mouth. You will perform bizarre balancing acts in your sleep to find juuuuuuuust the right position so you won't cough through the night.
That position does not exist.
Here it is, the new site. Version something point something. I've lost count. I think it's around 10, so I'm way ahead of AOL (and I don't send you metallic coasters every month). I spent all weekend uploading files, designing pages, searching for clipart, typing and clicking, typing and clicking. For all of you who have been craving for fiction (you know who you are), there's fiction! (Note: just two short stories up right now - I wanted a third but it's a longer piece and it'll be up next week - new fiction every week, in fact). For those craving for more pop culture, there's more pop culture! For those craving...um...transcripts of letters and phone calls I've made to companies and/or they've made to me...hey, I've got that too! I don't have to explain in detail here. There's a guide on the menu page.
Now it's time for bed. Oh, hell, who am I kidding? Time for The Simpsons and Malcolm and Alias (go to hell, X-Files). Then it's time for bed. And Advil. And bizarre balancing acts.
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