This damn flu has taken things to a very personal level, now. Twice.
The first time was Friday night, when LaptopGirl invited me to Rich O's and I had to decline. Yes, that sucked giant donkey dicks. First time in a million asstillion years that LaptopGirl has invited me to Rich O's, and I had to decline. Woe is me, indeed.
The second time this fucking flu got personal was about an hour ago. I'd forced myself into going to Rich O's, because I'm a stubborn asshole and also because it's Pizza Night. I saw, to my great surprise, that NABC Cone Smoker was back on tap.
Yay! My first beer in a week was going to be one of my all-time favorites!
But not so fast there, Speedy. The Cone Smoker (3177) tasted like shit. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but instead because there's something wrong with me. This damn flu has wreaked havoc on my taste buds. And so now even one of my favorite beers is unenjoyable.
And then my pizza tasted like crap, but I was expecting it by that point. Everything has tasted like crap since last Tuesday. I keep feeling like there's some magical combination of herbs and spices that will wake my mouth back up, and make things taste good again, but I just haven't found it yet.
I've been given the green light to return to work tomorrow, at least for a while. I've been sleeping between 18 and 22 hours a day for a week, and so I don't know if I'll be able to stay up long enough to put in a full day of work, but I'll give it a shot.