…without a lungful of phlegm, that is.

I haven’t been sick for months – but I go to bed Sunday night with a tickle in my throat and woke up with my throat on fire and sore as hell. I called in sick and rested – by noonish, I was feeling a bit better and was going to go into work, but my supervisor just said to stay home.

I also had a ticket to see Pearl Jam that night, and sick or not, I was fucking going.

I loaded up my purse with cough drops and vitamin c drops and went to the show. Fucking amazing set by Pearl Jam – although it was only 80 minutes long because of fucking Tom Petty. Going from the blistering, rocking pace of PJ to the yawn-inducing set by Petty was horrible. I paid nearly twice as much for a ticket to see PJ play half a set. Disappointing to say the least.

Although Matt Cameron had a drum solo in Evenflow – holy shit!

Got home around 12:30am, but my sore throat kept me awake until 1:45am when I finally broke down and tapped into my strategic reserves of NyQuil so I could sleep.

After an epic battle between me and the soft coziness of the bed, I got up and went to work…for about 4 hours. I proceeded home to hold down the couch and sleep all afternoon and get up to eat and sleep some more. After more NyQuil at around midnight, I slept until around 8:30am where I discovered the sore throat brigade marched its way up into my sinuses. Great. Since my ineffectual co-worker is going to be out tomorrow and Friday, I will be going in tomorrow – so I’m using today to rest more so I’m not so sick the rest of the week.

I hate being sick.