I hate you, stupid flu-or-whatever-disease-I-have-contracted. I want to go home and get back in bed but I can’t, because of course you always hit me in the third week of February every.freakin’.year, the week when I have tons of stuff to do at work, and my birthday is coming up, and I’m usually getting ready to go out of town to a conference.

I hate you I hate you Ihateyou.

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