Well, that's one way to start a week

My stomach hurt and I was sweating in a snowstorm. My ears were ringing and I kept getting distracted by the sound of blood pulsing in my ears. Can't explain it. Then I thought about the work I had to do today, and my stomach hurt worse. But I couldn't stay. I left work around 11:30 and went home to be sick.

Happy Monday.

I didn't think I was that tired, but after eating a cracker unsuccessfully, I slept a bit. A bit? OK, I fell asleep around 12:30 and by the time I woke up, it was dark outside.

"I can't believe Dave let me sleep on the couch all night," I thought. Seeing that the clock above my feet read 5:45, I thought I still had a good hour and a half to sleep.

Only my mouth? It tasted like crackers and was all dry? And my dog was down here with me ... Not up in bed where he likes to sleep. I was so confused. I sat up and noticed I was wearing socks (can't sleep in 'em), and there were crackers on the table. Time to get up? Why was the TV screen blue? Why was the humidifier on? We don't leave that on all night.

I didn't know.

What day is it? My heart beat faster. I felt as if I overslept for something, or was supposed to be somewhere, or maybe that I slept right through to 2029. Then a car drove by and beeped (probably at a neighbor), and my palms started sweating.

Monday. Ah. Still Monday. I didn't miss anything. It was 2007. February. Right. Got it. Sick. Ahh.

But for those three minutes, I was confused and panicked, about to wake up and get ready for work, take a shower, get my lunch ready. Because 6 a.m.? Yes, it must be a.m. I don't nap. And I certainly don't nap for five hours ...