Knockin on Hell's Door

I just lost over a day being wretchedly sick. Had to be something I ate, but I'm not sure if I can pinpoint it based on the probable gestation period for these things.

I felt fucking deathly yesterday. Took all my strength to get out the house to pick up some needful things from Duane Reade. Managed to get a few hours of sleep last night. Woke up around 5am feeling significantly better. I'm not certain I'm out of the proverbial woods yet, but I'm feeling... clearer. Could barely concentrate yesterday, didn't get a lick of work done. I was afraid I'd have to get to a hospital. Hospitals are bad news in this country. I should move to Canada for their healthcare system alone.

Haven't been that sick in a while. Really puts things into a different perspective. An awful perspective. That old feeling of doom, don't you know... if I died this weekend, alone in the Fortress of Solitude 2.0, how anticlimactic would that be? I'd have nothing. I wouldn't even have much finished work I'd be leaving behind. Certainly a dearth of loved ones.

I really hope I don't have a deathbed death. Something long and drawn-out with a parade of well-wishers. Something painful that just keeps coming, renders me an infant with all basic functions. I'd prefer something quiet, like in my sleep. Something where I can maintain an ounce of dignity. And when I die, I'd like to just sort of vanish, like Obi-Wan Kenobi or Axl Rose.

Anyway, still recovering. I'm not 100%... but it's been a long while since I've been 100%...