I am still sick, so I decide to complain, because that always get me somewhere.

I still can't breathe through my nose. I am mouth breathing. I am sweaty and cold at the same time. I have a headache. I am taking Ibuprofen to get rid of the chills and fever. I am drinking apple juice for vitamin c. I am still unable to swallow so I have not eaten today. I tried to eat Turkey chili from a can last night. I forgot how awful Turkey chili from a can is. I had to stop eating half way through. My throat made it impossible to swallow. I will try a chocolate milk shake before work today. That way I might have enough energy to make it through the work day.

Christmas Eve is all about working. I have to work 8 and a half hours on the 24th. I thought I was getting double time and a half. That was why I took such a long shift. Turns out we just get regular pay. Christmas eve is sure to be the busiest day of the year. I am too sick to think about all that hard work. I think I will need at least two weeks before I get back to feeling normal if the rate of my recovery stays the same.

I am sleeping less than normal which is not a lot. For a guy with no kids and no responsibility who loves to sleep you would think I would suffer from over sleeping. But the reality is I have insomnia so I don't sleep much at all and that only makes me sleepy and lazier than I already am which is pretty lazy.

I have the portable heater going. I am sitting here typing with a jacket on and a blanket around my legs because all of my sweat pants or pajama bottoms are ripped or thrown away. I need to buy a new pajama bottom soon.

My face feels dry and chapped. I need to scrub away all my dead skin but I am too chapped to try it. My mouth hurts from clenching too much. My back hurts. I had to cancel lunch with an old friend because I am sick and I did not want to infect him. Also the prospect of eating a giant burger was made improbable because my throat has closed.

I don't have the energy to weave an amusing tale out of this shitty illness. Instead I will just sit here and slowly get worse and possible die. When I do I want you to feel bad. I want you to know I will not forgive you- if you thought I was just being a hypochondriac. I want you to know that I will haunt you after I am dead. I will interrupt every happy thought you ever have with a reminder of how you let your friend die on the Internet because you did not take anything he said seriously. I hope you can live with that. I know I couldn't.