Being Sick is a Bummer

I have been "under-the-weather" for 4 days now. The worst part is that I do not feel better. I have stayed home from work, which feels awful, and I have hung around my apartment near the couch doing very little. I have eaten, taken naps, watched a smidge of television, checked my email, wrote, read about preparing for a half marathon, signed on to paperbackswap.com (even though I do not have 10 books to register therefore not allowing me to ask for a book to read that all the libraries in all of Los Angeles County have checked out!), talked to my Mom and friends, strummed on my guitar, made a doctor's appointment, and mentally tried to prepare myself to go into work even if I don't feel better tomorrow. Oh, and I picked up my Derwent Graphic 2B pencil and sketched a partly nude drawing of a woman. The act of drawing has been the one benefit to this time alone in my apartment with the miniscule amount of energy I have that makes scanning the pages of a book or standing for 10 minutes to wash dishes or prepare food nearly exhausting. My boyfriend commented, "You don't seem sick." My attitude has been quite lively, despite the fact that I am getting worried as to why my body feels so run down, as if something seeped inside and is preparing to take over but hasn't fully engaged in all-out battle. And so here I am at home, four days running, feeling little better than day one when I slept all day. And I am just wondering, "What the hell? Can I not get deathly ill for a day and get it over with?"