I might have it. I didn't want to shell out the $100 plus to get the test. I figured, if it is, it is. I can deal. I'm tough. It's the flu, not small pox.
But I'm not tough. Less than twelve hours ago I started feeling coldey and fluey and achey. I'm pretty sure the same Mack truck has been hitting me for the past ten of those twelve. I can't warm up and I can't shake the shakes. Water makes my teeth chatter and juice tastes like tin foil. I'm practically sitting on a space heater and still my hands feel like ice.
I'm leaving work and going home and settling down for some hibernation on my couch. It's covered in dog hair and I don't even care, I just want to snuggle something fleece.
I tried to make bread last night, but it wouldn't rise. My roasting chicken was still frozen. My strawberries destined for freezer jam yummy-ness were moldy. Some sort of cosmic clue, "you're sick, go to bed, don't share your germs."
P.S: I've used up all of my sick days playing hookey. a healthy dose of karma for me i s'pose.