Fighting the Plague

I'm starting this on Saturday night. I chugged the dregs of my Nyquil bottle and decided to start a blog post. So this could be a weird post. And I'll probably fall asleep before I finish it, but I figured I'd give it a shot.

Brian seemed to enjoy my last post, although I'm not entirely sure why. He said something about liking my honesty. He also said something about wanting to give me a hug. Did that post make me sound as though I needed one? Maybe I did. Maybe I still do.

Every couple of years, I get a super-illness that I refer to as "The Plague". I know I've got the Plague when I have a wide variety of symptoms, and I can't figure out if/how they're related. That, and I can't sleep for long periods of time even when taking medication that's supposed to knock me out. (I once had 64.25 sleepless hours while taking a DOUBLE-dose of Codeine... It defied medical logic.)

I was pretty sick at work all week. I didn't sleep Sunday night after writing my blog entry. I spent the entire night feeling hot, sick, and generally miserable. I was alright most of Monday morning, but when the afternoon hit I was suddenly falling apart. I started sneezing and coughing again, and my throat hurt. I got a stress stomach-ache and headache. The I got dizzy and nauseated, so I took some ibuprofen and Tums.

Suddenly, the room became freezing, so I put on my fleece, hat, and scarf while I was doing my work. I took my break by passing out on my keyboard. My boss walked up at that point, saying "You know she's really sick, because usually she's such a jitterbug." My coworker responded, "She's all tuckered out."

Upon hearing female pronouns, I assumed I was being spoken about (which, actually, I always assume when I hear a female pronoun. I suppose I'm paranoid. Or extraordinarily egocentric). As I lifted my head and opened my eyes to look at them, my boss said, "Look at you. You're all bug and no jitter". I said I was fine. She asked why I was wearing a hat and scarf. When I said it was because I was cold, she instinctively put her hand to my forehead and declared that I had a fever. She sent me home early with strict instructions: "don't come back until your jitter outweighs your bug." (No joke.)

I went home, crawled into bed, and attempted unsuccessfully to will myself to sleep all night. I fully planned to go into work on Tuesday, but I couldn't. I stayed in bed all day, too awake to sleep but too weak to move.

By Wednesday, I was back in the office against my better judgment. Can't waste all my vacation time this early in the year. I shoveled cough drops into my mouth as though they were Lifesavers. But the last three days of work were definitely rough.

On Friday, against my better judgment, I went to a poker party being thrown by my work-buddy Ben (the pudding guy) and his girlfriend. I was doing pretty well with the poker, until I let my high chip count lead to hubris. Then, it was only a matter of time. (For example, I thought I had one hand wrapped up with a straight, but then I lost to a flush on the river. Drat.)

I sat at the losers table and played a very tense game of Scattergories (which I'd never played before). Turns out, I love it. And I won by a full 10 points.

Once the poker had ended, I talked to Ben for awhile. He apparently used to read this blog, but stopped once he read about himself. Now, he prefers to hear stories in person instead of reading them. I keep a notebook in my purse where I jot things down. Random things, like items to add into my book of lists, books that I should consider reading, bad names, and blog topics. He leafed through the notebook, occasionally pointing at subjects that he wanted to hear about, and I'd oblige. It was probably just as much fun for me as it was for him.

By the end of the night, my voice had started to disappear. I was becoming increasingly more hoarse (blame Scattergories... lots of yelling involved in our game). It became clear that I wasn't going to have a voice in the morning.

I met several lovely people at the party, including one guy who insisted on walking me home. And then asked for my number. I gave it to him, because I saw no good reason not to. He seems nice enough. I'll let you know if I hear from him.

I was supposed to be an extra in a video shoot today for my ex-roommate, a funny little Indian guy named Himanshu. I sent him a text message to let him know that it wasn't happening. It would've been uncomfortable to traverse the public transportation system in 20-below weather on any day, but I certainly wasn't going to do it with my current level of illness.

I was actually in one of Himanshu's music videos over a year ago (for a song called "Klub Tyme" by an artist named Aderrick), in a "blink and you'll miss me" sort of way. You'll see my hands in the beginning, picking something up (0:04) and smoothing a tie (0:05). Then me dancing in a very dark setting (0:12), Then my hands buttoning a shirt (0:17). Then you'll see me walk into the club with the artist, Aderrick, as his "date" (0:20). I separate from him as we walk into the club (0:52). You can catch glimpses of me throughout, in the background (on the left... 1:10, 1:15, 1:17, 1:24, and on the right touching my hair at 1:33). Then, later in the video, Aderrick opens a bottle of champagne, and it spills on my arm (1:54). A guy then licked it off, but you can't see it in the final cut (we did take after take of my being covered in champagne and getting it licked off me... all for naught). By the end of the video, Aderrick leaves the club with another man. You can watch it, if you like.

(in case the embedded version doesn't work, it's here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6B1FLT0ay4)
Exciting, I know.

I couldn't even tell you what I did today. I mostly sat around. I attempting to chat with Brian on the phone at one point, with what little voice I have. I threw my trash out. I watched the latest thing to arrive from Netflix: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (which I very much enjoyed). I surfed the internet. I ate tomato soup (instead of the traditional chicken soup, due to my new-found vegetarian ways). I drank juice. And I did a lot of coughing. I tried to sing, which was completely unsuccessful. And I took a bunch of pictures of myself, trying my hardest not to look sick (see above).

It's weird not being able to talk to myself. You wouldn't believe how much I talk to myself now that I live alone. It helps me to keep loneliness at bay.

Alright, the Nyquil is kicking in... Continuation coming... 12:39pm


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So it's Sunday now...

My ears hurt today. And I have cramps. And I've started coughing up stuff (including something that looked a little like blood... I thought that only happened if you had consumption... should I be worried?). Yup. This is definitely the plague. The black death has evolved to something that can't kill you, but makes you want to put yourself out of your misery.

I've been sick since New Year's Eve. If I were a horse, I'd be glue and gelatin by now.

My voice is maybe starting to come back a little... I only say that because I watched a video I made for someone yesterday, and then I tried to speak, and I think it's a little better... But if I didn't have something to compare it to, I'd still say it's missing. Quick, send out a search party for my voice!

It's like I'm the little mermaid Ariel, and Ursula has my voice... Except there's no Prince Charming to seduce. I'm voiceless AND alone. I clearly did not get the fair end of this deal. Remind me to start reading these contracts more closely before signing them. Or maybe show them to a lawyer.

I don't even have a plan of what I'm going to do today. I'll probably just sit here. Doing nothing. And pray that the demons leave my body soon, so that I can put all of my energy into grad school auditions instead of self-healing.

I'm going to go putter around my apartment, thinking all the sarcastic thoughts that I'd prefer to say aloud, and trying to distract myself from the illness at hand. And, hopefully, I'll finish editing Chapter 3 of my novel.

In case you missed the memo (and a few intense entries to boot), if you're interested in reading my unfinished novel, leave your email address in the comments section. It's in a private blog that you can only get to if invited.

May your immune system be able to fight off the plague when it comes your way.

Good health and many blessings,

~A~

ETA: In Scattegories, for the letter "G" and the category "Things You Find on a Map", I wrote "Genome". Be impressed.