Post of Self-Indulgent Whiny Crankitude

I am so very, very, very, VERY tired of coughing.

I am also so very, very, very, VERY tired of:

--my co-workers' solicitous appearances at my door -- "Are you all right? It sounds like you're DYING in there! You should go home!" Because, work to do, can't go home. (Though I love my co-workers, kindly souls that they are.) (Especially my sweet funny queer-boy colleague A.--::walking in cradling hands carefully in front of him, holding invisible object:: "Hey, I found this in the hall! Your liver, right? I *thought* I heard you coughing it up! You'll probably want this back!")

--also, watching TV. Even watching DVDs of stuff I love on TV.

--also, having no brain whatsoever, and the attention span of a mayfly with ADD.

--also, having no appetite whatsoever for food of any kind.

--also, the entire house being ankle-deep in (a) used tissues and (b) dirty dishes.

--also, my bed, with its rumpled sweat-soaked-and-dried-out-again dirty sheets and heaps of disordered blankets, which I am too tired to change and straighten.

--also, being too damn tired to do anything except crawl into my messy bed by 8 p.m.

Have no concept of how I shall accomplish (a) Christmas shopping, (b) Christmas tree purchase, transport, erection, and decoration, (c) Seekrit Santa story (due in two weeks, ack ack ack!), (d) bazillion overdue projects at work.

Is it 8 p.m. yet? Can I go to bed? ::hack hack hack cough COUGH WHEEEEEEZE::