No worries, I'm not sick... per say. I seem to have caught a case of mild Hockey Playoff Fever. It's a very common communicable disease around these parts but I have somehow managed to live my entire life without catching it once. As a young party girl, I used to be pretty good at faking the symptoms and tagging along for treatment when my buddies came down with it. After all, the recommended medicine is plenty of booze administered in a seedy loud bar in front of a giant TV, preferably by some cute members of the opposite sex.
Today is the first game of the playoffs and my city is besieged by the Fever. Everywhere you look, it's Habs flags galore. Respectable businessmen were walking around in hockey jerseys OVER their shirts and ties today. I must be getting old and my immunity must be low, because I actually got a little excited when they scored twice in the first few minutes of the game. And we were listening in the car.... Ususally, I need to have a visual or a lot of beer.
Fortunately, it seems to be a very mild case, as I was able to watch Survivor and made my husband watch the game on the TV in the attic instead. I worked on a prototype for my quilt and only checked the score once I new the game was over. But I checked, which is a clear symptom of being infected.