It works much like clockwork. Or the plague, or whatever.

I seem to remember being sick this time last year. JUST in time for New Year's because, I mean, really, who wants to enjoy New Year's Eve? WHO? Clearly not my immune system.

I feel ick. I think I described it this morning as, "like death." I feel like death, people. I noticed the the dry, scratchiness in my throat last night as The Fiance and I (or mostly me, because I'm addicted to it like crack) watched back-to-back episodes of Law & Order: SVU on TNT.

"I have cancer," I announced.

"You don't have cancer."

"I have cancer. My throat hurts. And my stomach hurts. It's cancer."

It went a lot like that for the remainder of the evening. But I drank some tea. (Ate some Doritos because, hi, yum). And relaxed in bed (in front of two more back-to-back episodes of SVU). And then I woke up this morning, and, "Uhhh. (Moan, whine) Caaaancer."

It got worse.

My throat feels raw. Tea didn't help. And I couldn't even drink my coffee on the way to work. Eh. Boo. I feel the need for, A) my bed, and B) chicken noodle soup. Stat.