|Living in the cone of uncertainty
||[Aug. 29th, 2008|07:31 pm]
Not really...it's pretty certain that Gustav isn't going to hit us directly, and we won't even be on the dirty side of the storm, but I think if I ever get around to writing a novel (someone send me a plot, 'k?) I will work "Cone of Uncertainty" into the title.
Last night, The Boy said he didn't feel well. I asked him if he was going to throw up, and he said no. And then a half hour later rather spectacularly proved himself wrong. Today he's running a fever. Now I don't feel well, but I can't tell if I'm really sick or if I'm just imagining I'm sick.
According to the little fever strip, which is the closest thing to a working thermometer we have - and by the way, why can't you just buy a good old mercury thermometer any more - I have a fever of 102.8. I don't think that's right. I think my head is just hot. Feel free to insert "hothead" snark here. I think I would feel much, much worse than I do if my fever was 102.8. As it is, I just feel the same rundown/dizzy/hot/blah I've felt for the last two weeks.
I don't want to be sick, because tomorrow night is my 30th high school reunion. Technically, it's tonight as well, but I had only planned to go to the shindig tomorrow. I missed my 25th because The Boy came down with strep throat. I'm sensing a trend here. Do you think it's a conspiracy?