I love being sick. By sick, I don't mean pus spewing out of every orifice on your body or puking up blood every other minute. I mean the cute little fever that you occasionally get that lasts for a day, two at most, and makes you feel like a space heater the entire time. I love it because:
- It makes you cuddly as fuck. Something about being sick just
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Chris is sick right now too, I think the fever variety. He woke up in the night three times drenched in sweat. This meant that in turn I became covered with sweat as well. It was not pleasant. Though I don't really want whatever brand of nasty he's got right now, part of me does so that I have an excuse to not go to work and just rest all day. And maybe miss Thanksgiving dinner.
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