wish I had some.

Midol: the sniveling, whimpering, heaving, aching, takes-too-much-effort-to-beat-you-all-to-a-pulp medicine.

third part of sun, moon turned to blood, apocalypse nigh

I actually called out from work this morning an hour and a half early because I felt SO BAD. Once my relief got there, I laid down on the couch for 20 minutes before I felt good enough to drive home. Apparently I looked thoroughly like crap, too. (It's one of my talents, that when I'm sick, I look REALLY sick.)

Not only did someone come in and cover for me without complaint, but I woke up to find a note saying that I looked so bad they covered my shift tonight-- not only without my asking, but despite the fact that I mumbled "I'll be okay by tonight" on my way out the door.

I'm still going in, I'd just have to make up that coverage later, and I'm feeling better now. Just lingering owies, and a wish never to drink grape juice again. Ew.