Be it a matter of too much partying or too much work or a lethal combination of the two, the end result is the same: I'm so sick I literally can't get out of bed. It took every ounce of strength I had to get my iPhone from across the room, meaning I had none left to procure medicine. I might try again in a few minutes.
It was certainly nice to sleep in, although my dreams were nothing but me interacting with customers. Exotic, right? I think I'd prefer the persistent nightmares I was having earlier in the summer.
Figures that on my one day off, I've got such a sore thoat I can't get any recording done. I'm really not sure when I'll get a chance to work on any of it; this weekend is nothing but training and performances pretty much nonstop. I'd like to hammer out the guitar parts at least, but this fever's got me so weak I can barely muster the energy to play. This whole thing is a flashback to my wonderful bonding time with mono back in high school. I don't think I could get that again, though.
All right, I gotta psych this cold outta me so I can go to my improv show tonight without playing an invalid in every scene.
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