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Chrisonomicon

Write to Save Your Life

Painter at Easel (1631), Gerrit Dou

Sunday, August 13, 2000

I never get sick. This is a phrase I say often, but never followed by a rapping of my knuckles on wood, as the wive's tale goes. On the rare occasions I do get sick, they are fast-and-furious. Case in point: this weekend. I was sick for two days and on the second day, I was admitted to the hospital.

I'm fine now. Checked out the next day with my meds, all systems go. Pretty weird. It was a weird case of strep that lasted 48 hours. I hate to say this, but I sometimes wish I got sick more often, just because I'm a whore for sympathy (well, any kind of attention for that matter). I am proud to say that I received five bouquets of flowers, eleven cards, a box of candy, two boxes of green tea, and a pony.

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