I have been sick for the past 5 days.

Actually, let me rephrase that.

I have been “Plagues of Egypt” sick the past five days. I’m pretty sure that I was a zombie for a big portion of Monday, but I don’t really remember it. I was in bed all day except when I shambled, confused, disoriented, to the bathroom or to get water.

Sleep has been compromised, and when that happens, I get goofy. Like waking on Tuesday in the middle of the night, thinking that my C-PAP machine is trying to fill me with something. Sleep has also turned into these arduous anxiety dreams, where my brain was a top-load flash game like Tetris or similar, and every breath dumped more stuff down the chute. I didn’t know what the stuff WAS from one moment to the next, but it was all reflections of the things I’ve been working on, pushing to finish and get right. Apparently my brain wants me to be working so much, it’s going to make a confusing work game out of my bedtime breathing.

In a word, Fucksticks.

I think the worst of it is behind me now. Just occasional flashes of crystalline headache that come out of nowhere, flare, then sink below the surface.

Any day, the charming, fun, hard-working author will be back on top of his game. Or a drooling mess in a hospital. We’ll see.

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