O-Dark-Thirty: It's late. Or is it early. Due to the constant brightness outside my window, it's hard to tell. Anya wakes me up, asking where the Tums are. I don't know, I say. She goes into the other room. I hear grunting and heavy breathing. It sounds like someone's pouring soup down the drain.

Parker wakes up and we lie in bed. She's wondering where momma is, but I stroke her back to sleep. But then she wakes again. She lounges on me like Salacious Crumb lies on Jabba the Hutt.

0630: The sun is coming up. Turns out it was early. Parker never fully goes back to sleep. Neither do I. She looks confused as I tell her that I can't interpret what her non-word noises mean. They mean something;. I'm the one playing catch up.

0645: Anya comes back in and kicks both the cute one and Parker out of the room. We go into the living room. Parker picks up her favorite book and points to the brown bear and yellow duck as I mumble early morning obsenities under my breath.

0700: Mia, our white cat, comes out of the bathroom with crap all over her butt region. She begins to scoot across the floor in an effort to get the stowaways off. As she does this, she leaves brown chemtrails in her wake.

0703: I've been chasing Mia around the house, trying to catch her. She leaves little James Bond oil slicks behind her in an effort to thwart my gains. I finally catch her and toss her into the bathroom.

0705: I survey the damage. Our carpet and kitchen floor look like a sorry excuse for a Jackson Pollack painting. I place Parker with my sick wife and commence trying to wipe the shit from my cat's asshole.

0710: Child psychologists say you should never act like your child's diaper smells as bad as it truly does because you can give them crappy issues, but I have no such qualms about cussing out the cat. Few things in this world smell worse...

0800: Parker and I are playing in the living room when I hear death noises in the other room. I don't hear any cars on Lamar, which is rare, and I wonder if this is it. Is a stomach bug going to do in humanity? Is the rest of Austin hugging as much porcelin as the McKibben family? Am I next? Am I sweating because I'm nervous, or am I too getting sick? Or maybe it's because the smell of cat shit and human vomit has overtaken the house. It's still early. I gotta stay frosty. On my toes...

0900: I'm scrubbing Mia in the bath tub. I feel like vomitting. I'm halfway done and Anya comes in for an emergency meeting. Mia sees her opening and darts out the door. There is much messiness. Dejected. It's only 0900. If things keep up at this pace, the countries of the world will be destroying each other by 2300 hours. Mia decided to shit on the bed. I contemplate finding an open window, not sure if I'll use it for myself or the cat.

1055: Sheets are in the wash. Still no sign of the illness. Mia's in the bathroom, locked away from anything of worth. Parker and I are playing in the living room.

Time for lunch. I decide it best to choose foods that I wouldn't mind throwing up later. But the rebellious side of me opts for beef jerky, orange Gatorade, and Raman. Without the woman to take care of me, I can feel myself reverting back to caveman ways of singlehood. I contemplate buying some Lucky Charms but decide against it.

1445: No sign of world apocolypse... No sign of illness...yet. Anya feeling better...kinda.

1530: What started as the day from hell is turning into a GREAT father/daughter day.

1800: Just got back from the park and the grocery store. Parker is sleeping in the back of the car, giving me a chance to write another journal entry. Not feeling great, but am holding judgment about what that means. I'm hoping nothing...

1956: Oh no. Oh-friggin-no. Aches have set in. Feeling cold. Hmmm...


Time unknown: My head friggin' huts something fierce. The horror...the horror...