Fever. What a terrible way to burn. Actually, I don't think "burning" in any form would be a lot of fun. Regardless of whether or not death by extreme temperature is any fun, I'm sick. Sick as a dog. . . An expression I could never understand. (My dogs are very healthy creatures.) At any rate, I've been having fevers like a dog, body aches like a dog, coughs like a dog, and ultimately I sound like a dog. When I try to sing it comes out like a dog's bark. I don't like it.
I woke up at three o'clock, also known as the witching hour. I'm not terribly superstitious or anything, but this time of night really creeps me out. This isn't the first time I've woken up at 3 am, so I'm starting to think something fishy is going on. So here I am, unable to go back to sleep, typing away at my little post. I think the creep-out factor is especially high on the creep-out factor scale, due to the fact that I woke up from a zombie apocalypse type nightmare. Let me tell you about this nightmare. Woke up in some kind of concentration camp/military base type place. . . That's the most accurate way my sickly brain is able to describe anything right now. Anyway, concrete buildings surrounded by chain link fences. I was with my entire immediate family, my mom, my dad and my sister, and we were the only people there, in that big empty place. I'm not exactly sure why we survived the "aura" which, in my dream, was what the apocalyptic signs were, but we did. I remember talking about it with my family and being terribly sad about my extended family and the dogs. The dream consisted of us trying to find the means to survive, you know, like they do in zombie movies. I remember going to the grocery store and stocking up on some non-perishables. You know, important things, like soda. Anyway, there was a phone and I was able to connect with some army guys and I asked for some ice for my soda. Dude promised he'd "chip me some" when they came and got us. Whatever. Anyway, we made it to this room where we were going to sleep. My mom opened the door to another room which was connected to the first room and she said, "Hey, look at this." There was a large tim-burtonesque puppet shaped like an ant with claws. . . Except it was made out of human guts. You could pull on an intestine attached to it and the claws would go crazy and it would make a horrendous noise. Like in the exorcist when she's talking and it's a bunch of voices talking backwards. We opened a closet and more guts spilled out. One good thing about this closet was that there were blankets on the shelf. So we got those. . . I wanted to leave this room immediately because it just seemed a little weird that there was a meat puppet made of human organs, but whatever.
Then I woke up. You know how dreams are. When you're dreaming them, they're filled with anxiety and they are really scary. When you wake up from them, you're still thinking about what was going to happen next and you're still kinda freaked out about it. At least, that's how it works in my mind. I'm going to go ahead and assume that we got guns to protect ourselves with, and I led the family to safety of course, mainly because I am the bravest and I play the most video games. I'm pretty good at shooting zombies, if I do say so myself. Now that it's written down, it sounds absolutely stupid and ridiculous. Let me tell you, though, if you had been in my dream, you would have probably pooped your pants.
I hate being sick.
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