Alas, it has struck again. It appears I have been hit hardest and from the lethargy and malaise, I imagine it's got to be vasculitis.
What? Not vasculitis?
Probably para neoplastic syndrome, then.
I hope at this point my love of Mr. Stuart Little has become apparent and the diagnosis of hypochondriacism is not floating around your head. I've spent far too many nights watching House, but that snarky charm and sarcastic wit just suck me in.
Okay, so it's probably just a virus - maybe even the flu. But, it feels like something really complicated and awful at the moment and that's somehow validating. So, myeh.
Stay well. Wash your hands. Trust me on this one. It's not worth it.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
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