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Recently I read a comment that a good stomach flu is a great way to jump start a diet. Were they serious!

The stomach flu is not my friend. Every joint in my body aches. It hurts to sit, to lie in bed, to stretch out on the couch with a blanket. My head throbs and occasionally slashes. I have been sleeping almost non-stop and have not had a good workout in four days. I’ll probably come out of this flue five pounds heavier just from all the fluids I drink.

I’ve also lost my ability to think coherently on one topic for more than three minutes.

This morning I began to regret that I don’t have pain killers in the house; not even a Tylenol. Seriously, I can go years and never need one, so when I do get sick, I suffer through bravely—or is that foolishly?

There seems to be a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Like one of my favorite saying: “Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.”

I recently came across a “Fool’s Test.” It said: “This test determines how close to a true fool you are. Please wait for the test to fully load, remember to answer the questions as honestly as possible.” It had a download bar that began to move immediately, but after waiting hours (I took a long nap during the download), I was forced to recognize that I was the fool for waiting.

Why, in fiction, do people always rush into places we’d never go in real life? Such as an empty buildings at night, dark basements / attics, or long ship corridors when it is known a killer is loose? Why are ordinary places suddenly made sinister by becoming empty? I love the idea of grand mountain hotels, but I’m in no hurry to go stay at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado. In the winter.

Only a fool tests the depth of water with both feet.

Or thinks the stomach flu is in some way a good thing.

Or tries to blog when they can’t think clearly. (I began this in the morning and it is now dinner time.)