Illness does not become me

Let me preface this by saying that:
1) I'm a hypochrondriac
2) Everyone knows that hypochrondriacs never get ill

With that out of the way comes my first question:
How did I end up getting ill?

And by 'ill' I don't mean 'oooh I feel a bit peaky this morning, best stay in bed and watch This Morning'.

I mean I havent eaten anything for three days because just the thought of standing up for longer than it takes a kettle to boil (I may be ill but I still need tea) makes me feel exhausted. But also I'm just not hungry anyways. This isn't a problem I've encountered in a while as I normally lose my appetite in connection to the male of the species (either due to being lovesick or heartbroken) and the male of the species haven't exactly been bothering me lately*.

I mean I've slept pretty much non stop for the last 72 hours. And therefore missed TWO consecutive days of seeing my lecturer crush. Trust me, when it comes to crush days ('Crush days: The best days of all the days') it would normally take a Biblical flood to keep me away.

I mean I've been unable to watch The Wire (The motherfucking Wire man! I love that shit dawg!) because it requires some degree of concentration. (Unlike every other television programe on channels one through four. Sweet. Baby. Jesus. I knew I'd been spoiled what with all the downloading and the skyplusing and the DVD boxsets. But... I just... I didn't realise how bad it had got in normal telly land. But there's the rub: Has it always been this bad or has all the well-written, subtley acted, emotional engaging tv that I've almost exclusively been exposed to for MONTHS now (minus the intentionally trashy so-bad-it's-good shows like ANTM and Come Dine With Me) changed my perceptions irrevocably? For now, for ever, and for always?**)

I haven't even been able to put pen to paper to plan my radio shows this week. Even with my laziness gene managing to make a mockery of a sham of all the tasks on my to do list EVERY SINGLE DAY, I actively enjoy doing that (my procrastination superskills only kick in on things I don't particularly want to do. Like essays. And everything I'm being made to do for the sake of it rather than the love of it. Which is everything.)

But now, as it approaches 2 o' clock in the morning... I feel a little better. I even feel a little hungry. My voice is sounding slightly less Marge Simpson-y with each passing minute. All things we can safely store under the 'yay' column. However, I don't feel TIRED. I've never felt more awake. I guess sleeping for 72 hours will tend to have that effect on a person.

* This is something I've been meaning to talk to y'all about. I've had a couple guys ask me out recently (definition of 'recently'? Within living memory) And both times THEY have asked me out. Both times I have said yes. Both times a time and date have been agreed upon by both parties. BOTH times nothing has come of it. To coin a phrase: wat up wid dat? Seriously?
**And this from the girl that used to obsessively watch Doctors.