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I'm fed up with being sick. It's only been two days, not even that bad of an illness, and I'm more annoyed with being sick than I ever have been before. Which is strange because I've been sick a lot in my life. I don't remember it ever being this big of a chore to be sick. I want to be doing something. I want to leave the house. To exercise. To read without having to restart each paragraph because I'm not paying attention. I hate it. Right now, my body's saying to me, "Dude, I don't care how sick you are tomorrow. You're gonna get your ass on that treadmill in the morning and do some motherfucking downface dog in the evening." It turns out my body has a bit more attitude than it once did. It may need a timeout.

The day wasn't a complete waste, however. I did get in some pretty decent writing for the book (2.1). I read (and re-read and re-re-read) some more of the Gotham Writers' Workshop book. I also applied for some jobs with the American Cancer Society.

In the past couple of days with this bug, I've watched more daytime TV than I have in a while. I don't know how or why I used to watch so much of it. It's kind of pretty much all complete and absolute crap. . . At least I can say that I've changed this much about myself during this whole experience: I no longer have tolerance for diseases or crap. Hey, it's a start.

I'm grateful for prospective employers who give you a time frame in which to expect a response (20).