I'm...gonna...maaaaaaybe...vomit...

What a wasted day. I woke up before dawn feeling like I was gonna throw up. I MAYBE had 2 full hours sleep until then. I pissed, I paced, I stuck my head out the window, I drank water, I burped. I never puked and gradually felt better. What the fuck, though? WHAT was going on?! Otherwise, I felt fine. I really didn't get much solid sleep after that, despite staying in bed until shortly after 1pm. Had breakfast, felt fine. But about 3pm, the queasy feeling began again. It lasted about 90 minutes before I began to feel better. I was sipping hot black tea. The whole thing was agitating. I HATE being sidelined by illness. Adding to my misery, not one, but TWO friends called, wanting me to join them for some Sunday boozing. So this NEVER happens. EVER. Getting ONE friend to call would be a miracle, let alone two. Fucking UGH. And so the first Sunday of 2007 was one giant BLAH. I hit ShopRite...that's the extent of my productivity. Well, if you wanna push me, I explored some other friends' MySpace pages and changed my pillowcase. Yeah, that's about it. Oh, and watched both the Giants and Jets lose their last games of the season. Damn stomach. Actually, i've felt better all night, though...full appetite back and all. But i've been so TIRED. Yet here I sit, pushing 1am, still up, trying to salvage the end of the day. Bed beckons early, though, tonight. You know, 2am or so.