Sick (and a very merry Christmas)

I woke up this morning surprised to find that I felt like poo warmed over. Fine last night, swollen and lethargic 8 hours later. Immune system, I commend you on a brilliant surprise attack. Muscles have closed shop for the day, throat's on fire, nose has been replaced by a snot faucet, and my head feels like a bloated, pressurized balloon.

All things considered, I've chosen to dedicate this day to sleep and tea. My immune system and I have a decent working relationship, and I know when it's trying to tell me something. Right now, it's lamenting my erratic mood swings, irregular sleeping patterns, and sudden switch from a healthy, strict vegetarian diet to...well...crap.

So I've been sleeping it off, and in my pressurized cocoon of influenza, I've had some pretty stellar dreams...

I'm enjoying dinner with friends at a downtown bistro when my pager goes off (does anyone even own a pager anymore?). Some anonymous agency has booked me an appointment with a high-profile client, and they claim it's an emergency. I'm asked to show up in red and white striped kneesocks with a skimpy red dress and a tiny crinoline petticoat. I board a red-eye flight bound for godknowswhere with the understanding that I will be compensated accordingly. I arrive at my destination to find a very drunk Santa lying face up on the floor. He's blathering on about the things an intoxicated Santa might blather on about: toys, elves, children, Mrs. Claus. When I approach, he rubs his eyes and strings a few slurred words together:

"And what would YOU like for Christmas, little girl?"

I approach cautiously and kneel beside him.

"Oh, I know what I want for Christmas...but I'm not a little girl."

I straddle Santa's oversized velveteen pants and awkwardly wriggle around on top of his belly o' jelly. He laughs a jolly "HoHoHo" as I begin the arduous task of disrobing Father Christmas.

At this point I woke up, made another cup of tea, and cleared my mind with a bit of online window shopping. As a somewhat observant Jew, it is difficult for me to relate to this dream.