I still have a low grade fever, but I feel slightly better today, even though my mother liked telling me over and over again how terrible I sound. There's a party tonight that I want to go to, but I have a feeling it's not really happening.

I briefly considered meeting Cassie and crew for dinner last night (she's heading back to Toronto today -- I've been joking that she gave me SARS), but I just couldn't do it. Instead, Mike went and rented T3 and a disc from the Monkees' first season box set. Man, that last Terminator movie is a stinkin' piece of crap. I used to have this love for "Ahhnie" (as my dad calls him) because I would watch all his craptacular movies with my father. I still have a total softspot for Commando. But T3 was ridiculous. It made no sense, and all it did was set up a T4, which will never come out.

But at least it was mindless and kept me distracted from the fact that all I've done the past two days is sit on the couch, cough and feel like total ass.

And I still have to write a 15-page paper for Tuesday. Why couldn't I have been sick next week? Blech....