RALEIGH — Oh. My. God. I am sick. Drunk dog sick. Maybe even sicker than that. My teeth and eyelashes hurt. It hurts to sit up. It hurts to lay down . It hurts to eat and move and breathe. I do believe Im dying a slow, torturous, excrutiating death. You may commence with the sympathy. Feel free to entertain me until I pass out from exhaustion or my head explodes. Whichever comes first.
