I am so sick.

No, I mean seriously sick.

Understand, I'm the guy who -- for the last 8 years -- has worked through all kinds of sickness. Severe allergies. Strep. Influenza. Being sick of work.

This time, the flu brought a new world of hurt to my Christmas. We're talking flat on my back, sweating out of pores I didn't know I had, hallucinating sick.

We're talking conversations with God sick.

I read the average guy's water weight ratio is 60-65% water (FYI, women average 50-60%, and infants are a whopping 70% -- probably for birth cushioning, or maybe butterfingery parents). That works out to be 45 quarts of water.

I think I woke up yesterday swimming in about 35 quarts of water. Pretty sure that's not healthy.

I recount this not just to get your sympathy, but to tie it into this acting blog.

While delirious, I found myself actually working on my acting process; specifically, my sense memory.

I'd lay there, trying to grab onto and remember what I felt, totally weak and vulnerable. Or when I hit that "I'm-so-sick-I'm-emotional" stage, I'd try to grab onto what that felt like.

I'm not sure if my working on my acting process while delirious is indicative of dedication to my craft, or just how sick I was.

Oh, and for those wondering, God is evidently an endless indigo sphere floating in space, and to talk to him, you have to tuck yourself against him, kind of like a fulcrum.

I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere.