Forget the swine flu...this is the Zombie Flu.
The Scholarly Gentleman and I worked registration at the record-setting Fremont Zombie Walk Friday afternoon and evening. We got home very late, and I attributed SG's comments about a sore throat and fever to all the yelling we'd been doing ("Zombies? Register here! Whoops, let me wipe the blood off that pen.") and standing in the hot sun for several hours. It seemed like something a good night's sleep and rehydration would take care of.
Wrong.
Saturday morning, the SG looked and sounded like a zombie who'd died of bronchitis. He retired to the crypt.
By Sunday morning, he was feeling slightly less ghoulish, but I was flattened with milder but definitely similar symptoms. (The weather is warm -- but not 99.9 degrees, surely?)
All social plans for the weekend were canceled, with many apologies.
We'll be back from the dead. Soon.
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