It was Thursday night, and I was at a gathering of nerds that I host with Bill Prady and Felicia Day. A lot of my favorite people were there (that’s the whole point) including Hank and John Green, who were in town on unrelated business.

When he came into the room, I hugged John Green tightly. “It is so good to see you!”

He hugged me back. “You too!”

I stepped back and looked at him. John’s taller than me, and I always forget that because he’s usually sitting down in his videos.

“So, what’s new with you?” I said.

“I have strep throat,” he said. It was very casual, like “I am wearing Vans.” What I heard was, “Chopper, sic balls.”

Oh. That’s not right. What I heard was, “I have infected you with murder death muwahahahaha you never saw my nefarious plan coming, puny mortal!”

“Wait. Like. Now? You have it right now? And you just hugged me?” A cold panic began in my abdomen.

“I’ve been on antibiotics for four days,” he said, “I’m not contagious.”

“I sure hope you aren’t,” I said.

Fast forward six days. My throat hurts so much I can barely swallow. I have a headache that won’t respond to any pain meds. I have chills in my body, and aches in my joints. Last night, I kept waking up every few minutes, because I felt like I was suffocating.

I really hope it’s just allergies, or exhaustion because I flew to Toronto to work on Saturday and came home last night. Maybe it’s a combination of both … but there’s this doctor in my head who is even more terrifying than WebMD, and she’s telling me that I have strep and probably a mono flare up and did I mention that I’m going to Ohio on Sunday to speak at Miami University?

Yeah. So I’m trying not to panic. If I don’t feel significantly better tomorrow morning, I’m going to the doctor and demanding some sort of Bruce Banner treatment to kill this thing, because I don’t have time for this.

Silver lining: if I do have strep, I got it from John Green, which means that I probably got infected with his writing skill, too. So look out, world. Here I come.

I have a really great life. I don’t struggle to pay my bills, I get to do what I love for my job, I have an amazing wife who is my best friend and my partner in many crimes. I have a wonderful house, I am surrounded by people I love who love me. I’m successful in much of my work, and some days it feels like the best stuff in my professional life is yet to come.

And yet. (more…)

I fucking hate Daylight Saving Time. I know that it’s just an hour, but it really fucks up my brain. I already have a tough time sleeping, and something about screwing up the time by just a single hour makes my brain get confused and agitated and oh look it’s 1am and I’m wide awake for no good reason.

So I’ve gone from getting to bed between 9 and 10, and waking up between 6 and 8 — which I never thought I would have liked but ended up loving while it lasted — to struggling to fall asleep before 11pm, and sleeping much later than I want to.

First world problems, I know, and I’m lucky to have a flexible (read: no) schedule at the moment, which is allowing me to make it through my days feeling rested, if annoyed, and that’s a luxury most people don’t get.

But, seriously, fuck Daylight Saving Time. What a pointless and stupid thing it is.