kaffeine

I have had a flu. It's rendered me in a state similar to being a zombie, only without the clamoring for brains and whatnot. The fever has finally broken. I'll let you know when my glands shrink down to less-than-goiter-size.

It really doesn't help when the person trying to comfort you keeps talking about Captain Trips and insists you watch BBC reports about the new Equine Flu*.

I worked seven days straight last week. The new store is hell, including all manner of infighting, gossiping, and all the general shit I quit my old job over (minus the awful manager; my current boss rules). I'm sure it'll improve, eventually, but for now, I'd prefer to just firebomb the place and be done with it.

* Just a thought: in post-apocalyptic fiction, the animals are often left unscathed by whatever doom us humans have inflicted upon ourselves. In reality, we're seeing strains of human disease and viruses developing in domestic animals. Has our fiction been in denial of the strain we put on animals? Is this something we take for granted in general? (I'd say yes.) In any case, the Doom, she is coming, one chicken and horse at a time.