Fever pitch.

2005-02-14 at 9:22 p.m.

I could feel it coming over me like a big black absorbing blob. I was sitting at my desk correcting papers (oy! the correcting that never ends!) and I felt worse and worse and worse and worse until I seriously just wanted DEATH SWEET DEATH TO TAKE ME AWAY PLEASE which I totally would have shouted if I had any energy left whatsoever. I went from feeling middling okay at 10 a.m. to wishing for DEATH SWEET DEATH by 4 p.m. It was ugly.

By six I was either sweating or getting chills and aching in every joint and felt like my head was full of lead.

Today, two days later, I finally feel, oh, about 85%. But I don't think I've ever felt sickness come on like that, like I could almost chart it.

Of course, it might be that GRADING PAPERS MAKES YOU SICK.

Among the ads that bug me: "Create unforgettably moments at Sandals resorts." Such a euphemism. Why not just say, "Come have great sex." Seriously.

Notice that great segue? Or is it spelled segway? Ah, the things that keep me up at night.

So, sometime this weekend my brain created this fever-induced dream: I was trying to get Miss Mac, my comarade-in-arms in the math department, to observe my class to give me some tips. Somehow it morphed (as things do in dreams--have you noticed that? Things just happen and during the dream you're like, well, of course, but when you try to describe it to a friend it makes no sense whatsoever?) into getting her to observe me teach her class. Which made her all suspicious, and turned into (dreams again!) her accusing me of trying to take over her job and hunting me through the halls of our high school with a giant hunting knife.

I woke up all nervous--seriously, I don't want her job! I want to work there, but I don't want to kick HER out of a job! I emailed her to reassure her before being truly cognizant that OH YEAH IT WAS A DREAM.

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