I was all psyched to write about my Mardi Gras experiences (which were phenomenal this year), but I’ve been in bed wanting to die.

No, it’s not even a hangover.  I always seem to get sick after the festivities, and I assume it’s the 6 straight days of drinking too much, eating too much junk, and not sleeping enough, but it’s never been like this.  At Orpheus I noticed a scratch in my throat and knew there’d be hell to pay.  I soldiered through on Fat Tuesday, and when we got home, I ate and went to bed, where I started shivering uncontrollably.  Today my fever was at least 102, and every time I cough (which is often), I feel like I’m being stabbed in the chest (or so I imagine).

And wouldn’t you know it, I let E talk me into giving up TV (including DVDs) for Lent.  We’re not exactly Lent-type people, but the sacrifice is often a good idea, since we live a pretty indulgent lifestyle most of the time.

Now I’m feeling just barely well enough to post, but I’m eager to recount the atrocities and post a few pix.  I’ve just begun uploading to Flickr, but I find that I can’t upload many at a time, or my computer freezes.

Ok, back to bed, where I basically serve as E’s electric blanket.


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