I spent a lot of last week sick with some kind of GI bug. If I had known how long it was going to last, I would have gone to the doctor, but as it was I kept thinking that it was surely over, and then it repeatedly wasn't. The worst part was really just how exhausted I got after days of no appetite and all...er, output. And then when I was my most exhausted, Limelet got sick. Best of all, he couldn't bear to be more than two inches away from me at any given time. Somehow, he managed to get a completely different thing than I had, lucky for us all. But he was still stuck at home for three days with a mother who mostly laid on the floor (not out of dejection, but because we don't have a couch.) I lost four pounds in about four days, but it's not a method I'd recommend. What a miserable weekend. I'm still feeling depressed just from the accumulated misery of it.