Sick
December 11th 2006 06:33
I am sicker than twelve dogs right now. I get sick so rarely that waking up burning with fever and shaking with chills and cold sweats came as a rude shock, even moreso than it would to someone with a less reliable immune system. I've swung from what felt like a typical, if especially virulent, strain of the flu, to something more like anemia and fever. I have less than no appetite, and not eating probably compounds the problem; but my beleaguered body will simply not accept food at this time.
This mystery illness has caused me to call in sick to work three days in a row, prompting a suspicious enquiry as to whether or not I was really just hung over. I think not. The last time I consumed more than a few drinks in one sitting was Saturday night – and I'm not physically capable of consuming enough alcohol that a hangover is still manifesting itself in the symptoms of influenza, anemia and fever four days later. A bender like that would need someone with the constitution of a bull moose. Wolverine could do it, as could Jim Morrison, but I am just a man.
Besides, the truth is in the terrible dreams I had last night, at some point during my miserable, thrashing, delirious attempt at rest. You remember little of drunk dreams, if you even have any, but a fever-dream is another thing entirely. Surreal but vivid, larger than life, usually warped and horrifying. I dreamed that I was abducted by the CIA and viciously tortured by a team of interrogators, led by Bill Clinton. “What are you doing?” I remember screaming hysterically at some point. “This is Bush's scene! What about Israel-Palestine! NATO! Yugoslavia! Have you lost your mind?!” I don't even recall what was done, or to what end, just The Fear of it all. It was terrible.
Perhaps it was a very belated subconscious spasm of nerves at the direction of American politics, although that wouldn't explain why it starred Clinton – as far as I know, he never ordered the torture of anybody.
Maybe it's concern over Australian politics instead. Kim Beazley has lost every election and Labor Party leadership vote he has ever participated in. Today he is finally stripped of a title he never deserved, and replaced by someone more intelligent but even less interesting. Like former East Timorese Prime Minister Mari Alkatiri, he didn't know when to quit when it was best for the party and the electorate. The result was that it took a violent party schism to remove Beazley from his position at a time that Labor can least afford it. The Liberal party shows its first signs of disunity in ten years and rather than being able to capitalise on this, Labor has to deal with its own internal squabbles. Christ, even though Howard horse-fucked Costello out of the leadership he was promised, Costello still kept his mouth shut for the good of the party.
The behaviour of the Mari Alkatiris and Kim Beazleys is selfishness and arrogance on a scale that makes my head spin, although maybe that's just the flu.
This mystery illness has caused me to call in sick to work three days in a row, prompting a suspicious enquiry as to whether or not I was really just hung over. I think not. The last time I consumed more than a few drinks in one sitting was Saturday night – and I'm not physically capable of consuming enough alcohol that a hangover is still manifesting itself in the symptoms of influenza, anemia and fever four days later. A bender like that would need someone with the constitution of a bull moose. Wolverine could do it, as could Jim Morrison, but I am just a man.
Perhaps it was a very belated subconscious spasm of nerves at the direction of American politics, although that wouldn't explain why it starred Clinton – as far as I know, he never ordered the torture of anybody.
The behaviour of the Mari Alkatiris and Kim Beazleys is selfishness and arrogance on a scale that makes my head spin, although maybe that's just the flu.
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