Rare Moments of Lucidity

I never used to get sick, not like this, not all-I-want-to-do-is-crawl-into-bed-for-a-few-days sick. Not all that often, anyway. Sure, I'd catch a cold from time to time, sleep buried under several layers of blankets, and feel much better in the morning. These days, though, I seem to be easily laid low by each exotic virus my six-year-old brings home with him.

Ordinarily, I'd be inclined to just lay low for a few days, and hope to feel better — but I've already been doing that for a few days, and I don't seem to feel much better. And I'm tired of staying in bed, and work is piling up, and the house is a shambles, and I'm concerned that my son might catch this — it doesn't seem responsible to wait any longer. Tomorrow morning, I'll see the Doctor.