Here I lie, in bed for the last 4 days… at least, I think.
I can’t quite remember through the feverish delusional state, but I assume I must have spent some time out of bed because my house is a wreck.
Whatever this illness is — cold, flu, black death — it has had me dizzy and headachey and coughy and sore for the better part of a week. It’s all a blur, but I have flashes of memory: being unable to sleep, cold sweats drenching the bed, weird delusions about whatever was on television, and last night the realization that if a smoke detector battery is going to die, it will happen at 2am on a night when you are really sick.
I think I managed to get a few hours sleep after that last night, although I can’t be sure because when I woke up this morning, I was wearing completely different clothes than when I went to bed.
This must be what it is like to be a drunk.
