Before reading this, it is important to realize that I do not drink alcohol, this eliminating consumption of said chemical as a cause for the following events.
Maserati last night was amazing, justifying their new position as my favorite band.
Keep an eye out for my review of the show IndieWorkshop. And, while you're at it, read some of their other things...it's good stuff.
Unfortunately, after the show, I was at the Roxy with some friends drinking hot water with lemon and my stomach decided to revolt. Up went the chicken soup I'd eaten earlier to soothe my sore throat. I made it to the bathroom first, fortunately, but you can imagine how it put a damper on my night.
After I threw up, my fever set in and I started shivering uncontrollably. It occurred to me then that I needed to drive my friends home and get the fuck to bed.
After I dropped my friends off, I had to sit in the car with the heat on full-blast for about five minues while I kept on shivering. I had the heat up to eighty-five degrees and I still wouldn't stop, so finally I put the car in gear and took off. I stopped by a Safeway for some generic ny-quil, and some very, very nice woman decided to let me cut in front of her in line when she saw how miserable I looked. I managed to get back to the car and drove five miles under the limit the whole way home, petrified my shaking hands would drive me off the road.
I staggered through the door and downstairs to my room and threw up again, this time mostly water, this time with my stomach adding an extra heave after every second. I spent roughly five minutes curled in a ball on the floor before crawling into the next room, getting a phone, and calling the place I work to let them know I would not be coming in the next day.
I don't remember how I got into bed, nor do I remember why I drank some of the ny-quil before doing so, as I was desperate to fall asleep as it was. But I did. I woke up a few times this morning, managing to crawl up the stairs at around eleven to tell my grandparents I was sick and not going into the office.
That was around four and a half hours ago. I've since regained the ability to walk, and it feels like my fever has broken already, which is good. I'm not sure if I'm going to be physically ready to go to see Mono tonight, but I'm sure as hell going to try, because Mono fucking rules.
In the meantime, though, I still feel terrible, and would prefer to not be alone.
Would someone like to come over and take care of me?
Maserati last night was amazing, justifying their new position as my favorite band.
Keep an eye out for my review of the show IndieWorkshop. And, while you're at it, read some of their other things...it's good stuff.
Unfortunately, after the show, I was at the Roxy with some friends drinking hot water with lemon and my stomach decided to revolt. Up went the chicken soup I'd eaten earlier to soothe my sore throat. I made it to the bathroom first, fortunately, but you can imagine how it put a damper on my night.
After I threw up, my fever set in and I started shivering uncontrollably. It occurred to me then that I needed to drive my friends home and get the fuck to bed.
After I dropped my friends off, I had to sit in the car with the heat on full-blast for about five minues while I kept on shivering. I had the heat up to eighty-five degrees and I still wouldn't stop, so finally I put the car in gear and took off. I stopped by a Safeway for some generic ny-quil, and some very, very nice woman decided to let me cut in front of her in line when she saw how miserable I looked. I managed to get back to the car and drove five miles under the limit the whole way home, petrified my shaking hands would drive me off the road.
I staggered through the door and downstairs to my room and threw up again, this time mostly water, this time with my stomach adding an extra heave after every second. I spent roughly five minutes curled in a ball on the floor before crawling into the next room, getting a phone, and calling the place I work to let them know I would not be coming in the next day.
I don't remember how I got into bed, nor do I remember why I drank some of the ny-quil before doing so, as I was desperate to fall asleep as it was. But I did. I woke up a few times this morning, managing to crawl up the stairs at around eleven to tell my grandparents I was sick and not going into the office.
That was around four and a half hours ago. I've since regained the ability to walk, and it feels like my fever has broken already, which is good. I'm not sure if I'm going to be physically ready to go to see Mono tonight, but I'm sure as hell going to try, because Mono fucking rules.
In the meantime, though, I still feel terrible, and would prefer to not be alone.
Would someone like to come over and take care of me?
miloryan:
Well, um, no, but hope you get better soon and drink some 7-up or something. 
stormy:
aww poor sick boy. if i wasnt down in l.a. i would bring you some soup and cover you in blankets.
