...about the fourth consequetive night of flu is that
1) You cannot recall for the life of you how to spell consequetive, even though that's never been an issue before, but you really cannot be fucked to go to dictionary.com or even run a spell check on its haughty ass. A word that is simply one following the order of many, should not be getting all uppity and self-important. Come back and bother us when you are unique or unparalleled, or even rebellious For all you know, it's pulling some kind of shape-shifting trickster shit and is really been put down correctly the whole time, the way you'd like to see it on the Scrabble board. That is, if it had the good sense to be seven letters or fewer.
2) When the deluge of clear liquid, which appears to be your brain leaking out of your head via the left nostril, commences, it does signal the end of the constant muscle and joint ache that has been your constant companion since Sunday afternoon. Oh, and the sore throat is gone. Though we seem to be taking the glassy eyes and headache to the grave, attached as they are to us.
I'm never this sick this long without a real fever. It's a drag, because a good temp always seems to knock it out of my system so much faster, and I've had some doozies in my time. 106 a few times when I was a kid (always when I had my yearly bout with strep throat. The fever was always a minimum of 103). Let me tell you, delirium is seriously underrated. Perhaps it explains why I am now moderately retarded, and cannot spell 'consecutively' on queue.