I hate the flu.

I rarely get sick. I can't remember the last time I had a real "sick" day from work. Oh sure, I've taken Sick Days, but never was I actually sick. I think I know why now. My body isn't programmed to get sick on weekdays. Rather, it bottles up all my germs from Monday to Friday, letting them sleep peacefully, resting up for the weekend.

This really sucks for me. I start to feel like caca sometime around mid-afternoon on Friday, and by Saturday morning I'm nothing but a pile of wet sticky tissues wrapped in old sweatpants and a wool blanket. I devote the whole day to the battle, hoping that maybe I can fight it off enough to at least salvage Sunday. Afterall, the weekend is my only reprieve from the freakshow I call work.

So I send Brian off to the store with the following instructions... find me some drugs for nasal congestion, cough suppressant, sore throat, aches & pains... and get lots of it. Oh yeah, and above all else make sure it has alot of the decongestant! He comes back with all sorts of options, including a couple of mangos? He says that if I eat a whole mango I'll feel better in no time. I'm a little skeptical of his intentions though, I've seen that Seinfeld episode! But I'll try anything, I need my weekends!

I spend the whole day sleeping, taking medicine, eating mango, drinking plenty of fluids, and more sleeping. Come Sunday morning, I'm no better off than I was the day before. This sucks. Another day of feeling like crap. And another day that I'm not enjoying the freedom from work-hell. By Sunday evening, the sniffles are starting to subside and the cough has faded away. I go to bed knowing that in the morning I'm probably going to feel better... just in time to go to work.

It's like the whole weekend never happened.