Remember that last post, in which I declared that #pbandtunawastellar? Perhaps I spoke too soon.
Because I did not imbibe as much as many of my blogging buds did (I consumed enough, though - many thanks to the kind coworker who gave me a sober & free ride home!), I did not opt to declare that #pbandtunakilled me, as others did, the day after the party. While I did wake up a little headachey come Sunday, I was very much alive & well.
All of a sudden, though... I'm still alive, though considerably less well.
Maybe #pbandtunareallydidkillme! It seems some sort of mystery post-party virus has taken the blogosphere by storm - & I don't mean the kind that worms its way into your computers. I mean the kind that keeps you home from work with a sore throat, runny nose, fever & chills. I might even be talking swine flu, folks. Who can say for certain?!
The tweets tell all, & these comprise but a meager a sampling:
I should be clear: I only have a sore throat, & it only developed circa 5 p.m. Weak? Maybe, especially when Pithy Comments starts announcing that she's contracted the Black Lung. But I was already extra wary because my roommate's been laid up for something fluey for a few days now; I was already afraid of catching his bug, & the dinnertime sore throat set off my concern. Subsequently seeing that my weekend party crew is feeling similarly sick got me into a real hypochondriac-style tizzy, so being the vigilant future-Jewish-mother that I am (not soon, people, breathe easy!), I rushed to CVS, where I purchased both Nyquil & Dayquil, & I bummed a cough drop off my less-ill-than-before roommate. Tomorrow I shall stock up on the orange juice & Airbone I forgot in tonight's race toward wellness.
Get well soon, party people.