There you are just cruising along minding your own business and it creaps up on you. That little itch at the back of your throat. Ehh, just a scratch from lunch or something. So you motor on down the road but it gets a little worse. So you call it a day at work, 4:30 anyway and head to the house. The whole way home you feel worse. It is a sick tsunami! Just as you walk in the door it washes over you and your wife/husband gets to see you for about 30 seconds as you crawl into bed and mumble something out butterflies and hand genades as you slip into delirium.
Five hours later you awake from your slumber and announce to no one "I feel better!". As you trudge to the living room you are met by a concerned lovely lady with Vitamin C, honey, and all kind of other home cures. You think, hum....can't hurt and you down them. Not only because you figure better safe than sorry but also that someone cares enough to try to help you. Shamble to the chair and eat a hot dinner that has been waiting on you to awaken. Then it hits you again...you feel like someone has beat you with a rubber hose and stripped you off all your energy like your human alternator is not working. Between the "you look pale", "you should go to bed", and the smartest thing I have heard all night "I am sleeping in the other room I don't want what ever that crud is." you make your way to your new favorite place. That spot in the bed right in the middle between the pillows in no mans land. As the little mobile heat sources most people call cats pile around you like some kind of healing troop.
Morning comes and everything is right in the world. Sick no more you head to work. As you blast away at your keyboard you feel the energy slowly seeping from your body. The only thing you have keeping you upright is the promise of those steak fajitas for lunch...then you are going home....ummm....steak fajitas.