I don’t know what kind of bad karma payback I’ve been getting lately (aside from all of my wonderful friends and family for whom I am eternally grateful), but I’ve had a hell of a…week? Month? Year? Almost five years since I moved to New York? It’s a tough thing to quantify, especially when you’re jobless and, like me, you never know what day of the week it is anyway.
In any event, I have the flu. Or whatever you call it when you have a three-day fever, sweats and chills, body aches, a hacking (and highly productive) cough, sinus congestion, swollen glands and you can’t eat anything because every time you swallow it feels like you’re being stabbed by a thousand knives of fire and also your digestive tract is revolting (literally) so you’re subsisting solely on ice chips and popsicles. Cause that’s what I have.
On top of that, my loving mother (who has a natural tendency towards worry-wartitude under the best circumstances) is going to be out of the country and largely out of reach for several days and she’s feeling horribly guilty about leaving me, her darling baby only child, all alone with no one to take of her while she and my dad are traipsing around Europe having a grand old time. (If she wasn’t feeling guilty before, she definitely is now. I’m kidding, ma. Have fun!) As a result, she’s absolutely convinced that I have strep throat that’s going to turn into Scarlett Fever or meningitis or West Nile or a fatal brain aneurysm if she’s not here to worry about it.
I’m pretty sure it’s just the flu.
On the plus side…
My fever finally broke this morning.
I’ve watched almost two full seasons of The West Wing and reread (for the billionth time) the first three Harry Potter books. I plan to start book four later today.
I did some online shopping and bought myself an early birthday present. Check out my new sweatshirt…
[It’s like Jane Austen and Flashdance had a baby!]
With all the hacking, my abs are getting a killer workout AND I don’t even have to get out of bed!
Speaking of bed, I think I’ve found the perfect solution to my can’t-eat-soup-in-bed-without-making-a-giant-mess problem. They say that desperation is the mother of invention, right? (Isn’t that what they say?) In any case, when I shuffled out of bed today (for the first time in three days) I decided it was time to try some semi-solid food. I went with the always classic chicken soup, but because all of our bowls are dirty, I had to use a mug. A giant mug. A giant mug with a wide, heavy base and a great big, sturdy handle. This mug to be exact:
Fill it up only halfway and it’s practically spill proof – no matter how many pairs of your own shoes you trip over on your way back to bed! It’s like the sippy-cup of soup conveyance!
So…ailments and years and years of questionable life choices aside, I’m calling today a win.