Wouldn't you know it?

My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,

Last night was a most peculiar evening. Throughout the day, I continued to feel as though my health was improving. My cough and runny nose were still present, but for the most part, my cough was dry and non-productive. Yessss.

At approximately 8:30 p.m., after having an enjoyable hour-long telephone conversation, I returned to my studies... but something was not right. My forehead and right temple ached and my nose was running a bit more than it had been. I was feeling pretty nasty after a few more minutes, and it occurred to me that I'd not had a drink of water in a while. Perhaps I'm a bit dehydrated...so, I went and drank a glass or two of water, and once more, hit the books.

An hour passes and I'm slightly feeling better, but COLD. I bundled up but my efforts were in vain. Our heater is generally off...one thing my flatmates and I have in common is a healthy appreciation for lower temperatures. I set the heater to 70 degrees F and went about my business. Twenty minutes later, I was sufficiently warm and decided I'd go ahead and turn in. It was nearly 11 p.m. Off went the heater.

At about 1:30 a.m., I woke up sweating something fierce. I got up and peeled off some of the layers of clothing and tried to go back to sleep. No use, still sweating like a pig. Down to my unmentionables I immediately stripped and slipped back into bed...again, no use. I put on the ceiling fan at the highest setting. My heart rate was up there...not in danger zone, but certainly not normal when resting and not having performed any strenuous activity.

I did my best to relax myself, but it was the cold air provided by the fan that set me back on the right path. I put on a base layer of clothing and finally fell asleep, only to be awoken by my alarm several hours later.

Only once in my life have I had a hangover. I was 16 or 17 years old, and it was the day after the first time I'd ever been thoroughly inebriated. Such a miserable experience it was that I vowed to never again repeat it. I've held true to that to this day, but I surely did feel this morning as I did a decade ago. My head, ears, and torso ached. My nose, a fountain. My cough, persistent and productive.

Oh, no.

Several years ago, I finally trained myself to have an appetite in the morning after feeling not hunger, but nausea and disgust at the thought of food before 11 a.m...a situation I developed in my night owl high school years. Food was the last thing I wanted any part of today. I knew that I'd feel better if I got out of bed and just ate and drank a little, but could not possibly bring myself to do it.

In my bed I stayed for another four hours, most of which I spent sleeping. Of course, I missed all of my classes...and we have exams in each of them on Monday. I desperately hated to miss, but really had no choice.

When I finally did peel myself out of the cozy confines of my bed, I was beyond miserable. I managed to drink a few glasses of water...and a couple of hours later, ate some saltine crackers. After a long, long shower, I felt happy to be clean (one of my all-time favourite sensations), but ill as all get-out. I knew I had to eat, so out I marched into the kitchen.

The usual foul smells coming from fermenting gym clothes stacked up in corners, and from the dirty dishes strewn about in the living area, nearly gagged me. "No. No, I will not succumb to these urges. I'll be as swift as possible and take whatever I decide on consuming back to my room." That last bit, of course, is in direct violation of the contract I signed with myself upon moving in. However, the idea of opening my mouth and (forgive me for the silliness I'm about to write) having those stink particles infiltrate my oral cavity was more than I could stomach.

I am happy to report that I did start feeling a little better about half an hour after consuming some orange juice and more saltine crackers. Still unbearably miserable, but it'll pass soon...I hope...

Party Boy I had been ill with a cold, as well, over the last week + a few days, and he reported a similar middle-of-the-night experience. As of half an hour ago, we're both still feeling the same way.

Perhaps this is what I get for not being ill for a year. Ugh.

May the grace of He keep you always,

J.O. Morris