I have the plague. That's the best way I can think of describing it. Once a year all of the sickness, germs and general health problems that my metabolism normally keeps away, sneak up when I'm not looking and mug me. Therefore I get the equivalent of "Martian Death Flu" or some such horrible crap, and cease to have a pulse for a few days.

At the moment the sickness has not taken a choke-hold, but it's in the mail that's for sure. Tomorrow morning there will be an enourmous mound of blankets on my bed, heaped on top of my frail and pitiful form in an attempt to keep the individual air particles from banging into my head.

Go team NyQuil.