I cut the front lawn last night after work. With all the precipitation this year, the yard (weed patch) has been growing a bit fast this spring. I think one of the hedges along the sidewalk has bought the farm. I'm wondering if a bit of watering will revive it or if this shrubbery is moribund and I am merely keeping it nailed to its perch. Heh.
Around four o'clock this morning, I am having a really involved dream featuring me as my level 60 mage, Velastir. It is a World of Warcraft dream. I'm in a battleground and wounded and on the ground. I'm rolled in a bedroll and terribly cold. I need to make it back to the base and get healed before some Hordie finds me but I can't get out of the bedroll because it's too cold and I'm too weak. I was thirsty and was hoping that I could get someone to bring me some water. I worried that I might be inflicted with the Undead Plague and was in danger of joining the Scourge as a ghoul. I felt colder than room temperature, that's for sure. Okay, I've been playing entirely too much this past week, but I did make level 60 last night before bed!
I woke up actually sicker than a dog. It turns out that not everything I had been experiencing in my dream was a complete figment. Every single joint hurt like it was full of arthritis, or rusted into near immobility. I had a fever and chills. The bathroom was ten feet away and it felt like a mile. I was freezing, and shivering like an old wino with the DT's. I managed to get a couple of Extra Strength Enditol caplets down me and dragged myself back to bed where I buried myself in blankets. Absolutely crazy. I thought I was coming down with the flu or something. This morning, when the alarm went off at six, I felt just fine, for the most part, other than feeling as if I've been run through a wringer. What in the heck was that? Well, whatever it was, it's obviously not going to stick around and make me take a sick day. I'm off to the shower.