sick as a dog

One of the cover stories today on People magazine was about Ellen Degeneres' dog adopting fiasco. Of course, of all the articles I could choose to see on the cover of People, anything but Britney Spears pretty much tops my list.

Seeing that story is what prompted my metaphor. I am, indeed, as sick as a dog, although I really have no idea what that's supposed to mean. Perhaps it's like happy as a clam - which actually used to be happy as a clam at high tide. The second makes sense; the first does not. Perhaps there's an ending to the 'sick as a dog' phrase that I don't know that would make it make more sense. Or make me make more sense, but that isn't likely to happen given how many drugs are currently pumping through my system.

My coworker kindly provided DayQuil, but I'm a Tylenol/NyQuil fan myself, so my mom is getting me some on her way home from church tonight. I can't wait to down some nasty medicine and drift off into la-la land. I do not see how I'm supposed to continue to work and move and then go back to work while I'm sick, but my sick hours don't start accumulating until the first of the year. And I wouldn't want to squander them this early on anyway. But still... the misery, she had no company, so my coworkers infected me, and now I too am miserable.