Why, hello again, world.
I’ve been intentionally avoiding my blog most of this week because I’ve been seriously ill. Three days of fever, can barely swallow liquids because my throat is full of broken glass and razorblades ill. The only thing missing was that pit of used hypodermic needles from the second Saw movie, but my fever was high enough the first night and morning that it felt like I was in that pit. So I guess my illness felt like the fucked up contraptions from Saw.
Obviously, illness, you win. You twisted bastard, with your weird clown mask/marionette bullshit.
I was home sick for an entire day. And I went home almost four hours early yesterday. This is the most work I’ve missed due to illness in years. The last time I remember missing this much at once was three years ago when I had bronchitis so bad I couldn’t talk without coughing and couldn’t cough without gagging. I showed up at work three days in a row and went home before noon all three days. And I fell asleep on the lid of my Jamba Juice. Pretty much the most pitiful thing ever.
I hope I don’t jinx myself by saying that and my crazy sickness turns into bronchitis now.
Picture me knocking on all kinds of wood.
What is it with me finding the dirty joke in everything I say now? Is it just that I’m more comfortable sharing myself with the world now? Maybe it has to do with the fact that I admitted I’m like a guy and I like Things That Are Doing it, so subconsciously I feel like it’s okay. Whatever. I said wood and it’s funny to me.
Anyway, back to topic. Ish.
My throat had been scratchy for days. On and off. Tuesday when I got off work I was tired and it was hurting again, so I decided to take a nap. When I woke up, I felt even worse. It was like that little bit of sleep had sped up my sickness tenfold.
Over the course of the next hour, my temperature increased. By a lot. For me, at least.
My regular body temperature is usually around 95.7. While it does vary a little, it’s usually not much higher than 96.
I know. I’m a little bit dead.
Usually when I have a fever, it’s around 98. Tuesday night, it was at 100. For me, that’s really high. I know it probably doesn’t seem that bad, but think about it. A normal person’s body temperature is a fever for me. My 100 degree fever is your 103.
I felt like shit.
I slept like shit, too.
Wednesday, I managed to call in sick to work. Somehow. And slept until 11:30.
I slept probably another hour that afternoon. Then I fell asleep again at 3:30. On the couch. With the sun in my eyes. And I could not wake up until 7. I kept kind of waking up because it was bright, but then I’d fall asleep again.
I spent 32 hours in the same pajamas, sweating out my fever only to have it climb again. My hair and face were both thick with grease. I did manage to brush my teeth both morning and night, but mostly before bed is habit and Wednesday morning I had a desperate need to get rid of what was probably dried fever froth as the result of open-mouthed breathing.
It’s like I divulge something super sexy about myself every time I post now.
By the end of the day Wednesday, I smelled like boy. You know, not as bad as boy because I don’t have a boy funk. But I smelled like something. Maybe girl sweat. That's not nearly as bad as boy.
Both Wednesday and Thursday I kept having awesome blog ideas, all of which were probably completely fueled by my fever. Which is why, even though I was home on the couch and completely free to type whatever my little heart desired on my laptop, I made the conscious decision NOT to write a post.
I know what I write on days when I’m feeling fabulous. I can’t imagine the awful things I would say in my semi-unconscious state.
That’s not true. I kind of can. That’s why I didn’t write anything.
I’m also afraid of how horrible my grammar would have been, having seen some of my text messages from fever-town. Let me tell you, it was not good.
Today, I finally feel like the fever is gone. My brain is tired, but no longer cooking. My throat still really hurts, but it goes away a little with the magic of Tylenol.
Bad news is I’m almost out of Tylenol (By Tylenol, I really mean acetamenaphine, because I’m buying the giant bottle and I’m not paying that much for it). So I hope I have the physical/metal capacity to go purchase some when I get off work.
Please don’t expect any awesome stories about how I figured out how to hang upside down on the stripper pole without kicking anyone in the face next week. My plans for this weekend consist of sleeping and, if I get a sudden burst of energy, doing some laundry.
Sounds glorious, doesn’t it?
By the way, I haven't posted a picture in a little while. Since I know everyone loves pictures, here you go.
They love each other!!!