Nothing Rhymes With Mono

What has two thumbs and mononucleosis?

Yep. Yours truly has the kissing disease. Yaaaaaaaay.
(Thanks a lot, Boyfriend. I don't know if you gave it to me but I'm blaming you anyway.)
La Madre picked me up this afternoon to come home for Thanksgivin'. She took one look at my enormous left lymph node (it's covered up by my hair in the picture) and decided we needed to go see a doctor. Two and a half hours, one disgusted nurse, one painful throat swab and a needle in my vein later, Doc says, "You got mono." 
WELL CRAP.
I've read about people who've had mono. I know people who've have mono. And they all say something along the lines of "I was more tired with mono than I was after pushing my 10 pound son through my girly bits for 18 hours." Me? Tired? No sir. Well, I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy. I wake up at night at least three times. I'm restless during the day. Nap time has just never been my forte.
So now I'm sitting here trying not to shake my fist at the fates. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Am I going anywhere? Nope. No holiday party for Gigi. My birthday is next Friday. Am I gonna be all chipper and dazzling like I always imagine I should be on the anniversary of my birth? Noooo. Christmas is in a matter of weeks. Christmas is my favorite holiday. WHY, GERMS?! WHY!??!!
Then I do the zen thing. I take a deep breath and think how Grandma Rose would think. Be a positive, cheery, everything's-fine 89 year old, I tell myself. And it works. Maybe I'll feel a bit better on my birthday. Maybe I'll make it through finals. Yes, this sucks, but this just might be the worst of it.
Ommmmmm....