From Bread-winnin' to bed-ridden: I'm sick again

Dear Everyone,

Remember how I was all sick and stuff but then I was getting better?  Yeah, well, scratch that last bit cause I'm back to being sick.  Worse than ever as a matter of fact.  It's one o'clock here right now and in two hours I'll be celebrating the 2-day anniversary of my marriage to my bed.  I haven't left it since I got home from work at 3 o'clock on Tuesday, except to go to the bathroom and once yesterday evening to say hi to some well-wishers and stare morosely at a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

I'm calling in sick today, but didn't have to yesterday since it was a day off for everyone, on account of there not being any cruise ships in town.  It was also my first day off in 24 days, which I can't help thinking has something to do with my being sick.  Lately we've been busier than a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest around here.  We've had four ships in almost every day, which usually means waking up at 4:30 and working a 10-12 hour shift with no breaks.  Just about everyone has has a couple days off interspersed into the madness, but somehow I was overlooked.  And so I was really looking forward to yesterday as a day to relax, recoup, and recreate. The weather was idyllic, there was a company hike planned in the mid-morning, and I had plans to go fishing with my good friends Don and Amy later on - instead, I spent the day of golden opportunity wheezing and hacking my way between bouts of fitful sleep and bleary wakefulness; putting silver $1 coins over my eyes to block out the hateful sunlight that perforated the blinds, with the small comfort of knowing that if i died, my passage would be paid for the Styx Gondola Cruise.  I felt like some bronchi-ital version of a vampire out of the book I'm reading ('Salem's Lot by Stephen King).

Thankfully, I awoke this morning feeling much better than I did yesterday.  I'll still probably spend most of the day in bed, but I'm on the mend and feeling well enough to complain about how sick I am for all the internet to hear.  Thank goodness for small mercies.

- Rusden "I Vant to Suck Your Nyquil" Scott

P.S. Mad, mad props to the wonderful people who've been here to bring me soup and smoothies and fruit snacks and take away my butterfingers and force me to take medicine.  Don, Amy, Sara, Bryce, Mike, and esp. Olivia - you guys are dandies.  Like, the cat's pajamas, seriously.  Super-duper-thunder-troopers, every single one of you.

P.P.S. To all persons who fit the description of a roommate who calls in sick for 5 days last week forcing the rest of the already-too-small group of workers to pick up the slack so that you can hang out with your girlfriend all day long and then come home and work out to hip hop at midnight when we're all trying to sleep so we can cover your sorry butt tomorrow:  Go sit on a totem pole.

P.P.P.S.  As admittedly small as is my knowledge of the workings of the human body and the mysteries of the universe, I'm fairly certain that one should not be consistently putting out more matter than one takes in.  It stands not at all to reason and hitherto my so-recent illness was it assuredly not so.  Should I continue much longer in such a befuddling state, I would deem it prudent to consult a physician.