Sick in Greg's Bed

For anyone following me on Twitter, you most like already know the short version: I have a cold, and am resting it off in Greg's bed. The long version is, its my own damn fault. Like, really. I burned it at both ends this weekend, as in the Saturday end and the Sunday end, and clearly staying up all night and all day was the final blow to my immune system.

So. So now I feel like ass. I had a rehearsal for Eggplant Casino last night, which mostly went well, but its hard to say because I'm pretty sure I was running a fever. We have a show on Sunday night at the House of Love Cabaret (corner of Fulton and Lyon in San Francisco, its going to be packed, packed I say, well past capacity) and I didn't want to miss the last rehearsal before the show, so with hot toddy by my side I hacked my way through. No, it was good, it was. I tried not to talk or sing, but I did tap dance like a maniac, which maybe wasn't so good. I dunno...

The Nyquil is starting to kick back in, so forgive me if I ramble.

Anyway, the point is, I went to rehearsal instead of sleeping, and though I tried to take it easy, there's only so easy you can take it from the Eggplant Casino. I got to Greg's house and wasn't much good company, I can tell you that. I guzzled Nyquil and showered and passed out. No, stop, back track: when I first got here, I sent out some emails to work-folks - I guess those would be PROFESSIONAL EMAILS - saying I wouldn't be in today. No matter how bad I feel calling in sick still feels like getting away with something.

ANYWAY, THE POINT IS THIS: Knowing full well there was no way I'd be getting far from a bed today, I still had this thought, in the back of my mind, at least while I'm sick in bed I'll have time to get some writing done. Never mind that my attempt at writing is turning out LIKE THIS! If you're still reading, I commend you. But I've been doing a lot of writing and most of it is good. Not here and now, obviously, but in my notebook, like actual writing, with a pen, and I've been doing it in whatever spare minutes I can patch together. So, a lot of it is done right before bed and while riding on public transpoo. That's a new word.

Okay, the Nyquil has won. I give up. The end.

ps. I did an image search for Nyquil and that's what I found. Eek.