See someone. See someone cough. See someone try to sleep it off like a viral hangover. I have too much to do to be sick like this. I cannot be clever in interviews with a head full of sludge. I want a gun. I want to be sharp and clever and back in the saddle again. I am sick and I am tired. And I just want to say, to all the heroes who go to work sick, who shake my hand and wish me well, and complain and carry the world on their shoulders like no one else can: fuck you. fuck you and your whole army of nasty little pathogens that have invaded my world and won't go home. Oh... and yeah: get well.
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