So I wake up at 10:30 this morning, unable to move without sending white-hot daggers of pain cutting all over my lower back. Everywhere from the base of my ribcage on down. It takes me an hour to stagger out of bed, and then only because I need to throw up. Of course, all I can retch up is stomach acid, as I'd barely eaten anything in all of yesterday. After a few glasses of orange, I went back to bed fully clothed in order to try counteracting the shivers that I'd picked up. I awake at 2:30 and this time take only half an hour getting out of bed. Again, to throw up. Needless to say, that combined with the shivers and the backache motivates me to call the student medical service and get an appointment tomorrow with the doctor. It takes while half four before I can even consider eating, and by that time the very sensation feels strangely alien and wrong. I'm not sure I can carry on with it, but I have to try. For those keeping track, the assignment still hasn't been handed in. I hurt too much to leave the house.
So, I feel sorry for myself for a fair while and generally just sit in my nice comfy chair trying to keep my back from redefining my pain threshold. Then I flick over the TV to another channel just in time for the start of Tomorrow Never Dies. That'll do nicely. I muddle through the film, feeling well enough to get more food down me (just beans on toast, but it's still more than I had yesterday). And once the explosions and the bad innuendo and the Royal Navy blowing shit up is over, I flick on to CNX. Their movie at 10 is Endless Waltz, the Gundam Wing finale. Bloody amazing. With that over with, I'm suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more human.
The day may have sucked, but it could have been a lot worse.