Bug Takes Out Man.

The devil sticking his pitchfork in my shoulder won't go away. And now he's got one of his recruits, maybe that guy with the long black coat from the first Indiana Jones movie, sticking me in the arm with a hot poker at random times throughout the day. But I keep changing hand position, keep pushing on.

Yesterday the Dark One introduced a new villain.

My stomach started feeling a little weird in the morning. Lunch didn't help. I missed dinner as I was curled up in bed groaning in pain for four hours at the tiny little bug wreaking havoc in my gut.

He must have had a twin in there helping him, as it took me two trips to the porcelain pot to scream them away.

Finally felt good enough around 11pm to down some cold cereal. Then slogged through three sets of 25 pushups while enjoying Jeff Spicoli become acquainted with Mr. Hand.