When I was in highschool, I did the 30 hr. famine to raise money for the hungry. For those of you unfamiliar with the project, young people volunteer to starve themselves in hopes of raising money for those less fortunate to be able to eat. We would either be sponsored by the hour, or be sponsored for a lump sum upon completion, etc. Personally responsible for your own goals and your own honesty about the fasting part, it was a trying experience to make it 30 hours in highschool without eating.
Compare that with today. In the last 24 hours, I have successfully kept down 2 pieces of bread after a mass rejection of everything I thought was worth eating yesterday. I wanted to claim food poisoning, but then the fever started kicking in and it began to look a lot more like the short flu (especially once I started aching everywhere). My only goal last night was to keep awake long enough to keep food down, then take meds, keep those down and sleep. I barely made it, but it did prove to be a great excuse for getting to watch my Spartans win a must-win in MN yesterday.
But frankly, apart from severe dehydration today and a little light-headedness, I feel fine. My body's not thrilled with the idea of moving around much, but the ultimate suffering of food deprivation for a whole day barely phases me in this new state of lowered adult metabolism (perfect proof of why I can't lose weight).
The worst two parts of being sick are the drag I put on the family unit (yes, I just called my wife and our mangy mutt a family), and the cabin fever that always settles in on me within the confines of day 1. I hate how I really like a purpose in the home when I'm sick, unable to help with the simple tasks and how I feel so useless. And then sitting around the house with nothing to do and nowhere to go, I realize just why the dog gets so ancy if she doesn't get a walk. Life in one spot is boring; it's even more boring than going to work.
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