Sick, still.

So, Tuesday. Didn't feel so well, took major doses of airborne and coldeez and any other drug that promised to keep sickness away.
THEY LIE.
I had to call in sick on my birthday (which meant missing probably the only time I will ever receive flowers at work). I cancelled my birthday dinner with the girls, drank more tea than an average human being ever should, and went to bed before midnight. I had Thursday off, as the parents were coming for lunch. I figured I'd sleep in, celebrate my birthday on the day that's not really my birthday, and be ready to go.

[Short aside here: I was born on leap day. February 29th. I celebrate my birthday on the 28th because my birthday is in February, not March. "But your birthday is the day after the 28th," my mother always says. "Well, it's the day before March 1st," I snit back. In all reality, I celebrate it both days--it gives forgetful people a little leeway. And if I don't get a birthday at all, I might as well take two days. That's how I roll, people.]

I powered through lunch with my parents, but crashed around three. Yes, 11-3 is apparently a full day for me right now. I took a nap, Maureen dropped off Elmer (she gets a week in the Bahamas, he gets a week a la casa de Kate + Lin, which might be relaxing if Lin would stop being a royal bitch), took another nap, let Elmer sit on my lap (which is apparently quite out of character, but what can I say? Cat lady here...), and then decided that I had enough energy to go to Renata's show, which I had been looking forward to all week. And dammit, it was my birthday! I wanted to do something.
The show was fun, but the meds ran out toward the end, and Han dropped off a very sniffly Kate. Two hours out, where I drank tea the entire time, and I was just exhausted. I lost my voice sometime in the middle of the night, left L a very very quiet message saying I couldn't come to work, and then slept. FOREVER. Well, for 13 hours.
I am now sick of my apartment. I am sick of being sick. And I am almost sick of the food network.
Which comes to my next point: what did sick people do before the food network and DVR? Because I shudder to think of all the Lifetime movies I would have watched the past few days. Instead, it was just lots of catching up on saved TV shows and the occasional dose of Rachael Ray, just so I knew the outside world still existed.
It does. And she's still Satan.