Motorhead’s The Game was my soundtrack for my winning streak last night playing poker. I needed to be aggressive and it was just the right amount of metal and angry lyrics. I made some good money last night. No quite three times my buy in but nice and close. I was even in bed before midnight.

Then this morning came. Hamish, poor little guy, had a high fever so I called into work. Now Michelle feels sick and Anna, Aoghdan, and I all have low grade fevers. Hamish is a trooper. He is still laughing and playing even with his fever albeit a little slower than normal. I am not a trooper. I want to crawl into bed and sleep this off. I want to whine and be pamperred. No dice on that one though. I even have a headache that is bordering on migraine to top it all off. And I am missing work. That is the suck about being hourly. Not that one day really hurts us at all financially with the money I am making but damn it I want the money!

I am going back to feeling sick. I just wanted to whine here for a minute.