Today's been a rough day. After the week of the fastest sick ever, spending Wednesday at home sleeping, Thursday in meetings, and Friday driving around suburban Virginia in a trek to the biggest waste of time since, I'm gonna say, August, I celebrated the end of the week with dinner at the pub with Momola and a co-worker. We laughed about stupid people (see Early Morning Wake-up Call) and other folks who get on our nerves. It was a good way to end the week, but there was a lot of talking yesterday, and towards the end of the day my throat was a little scratchy.
Twelve hours later, when I woke up, my throat was still sore. Not a big deal, I made a pot of tea, and sat down with the computer and my DVR remote. My morning's are quiet, so it took a while for the blogs to make me laugh and the squawk of my throat to alert me to today's health development. I'd lost my voice. And not just kind of, in a 'let me clear my throat' kind of way. We're not even talking about the voice-loss that goes away at the end of the morning, leaving you thinking you just needed a warm-up. I haven't been able to talk all day. At all. Everything comes out as a whisper, and a sentence leaves me coughing - which is almost funny, because I'm not coughing otherwise.
It's occured to me today just how much I talk in a given day. Even on the weekend days I don't leave the house. I call Meredith and chat with the Dumpster, I call the folks to tell them random things, and I call to bug Christopher about getting together for Sunday brunch. Today it was me, the tv, and the computer - I couldn't even talk the that cat. Talk about stir crazy - if you can call it stir crazy when you're trapped inside your head.
Side note: I didn't do anything useful like catch up on e-mail, or sort through yesterday's mail. But I did join Twitter - that's right, I now tweet. Snarky one-liners all the day long. Sounds like fun, but if I can't talk tomorrow there's going to be some violence.
Oh yeah, and happy Valentine's day, or something. It didn't really occur to me that that's what today was, until my sick and sorry ass fixated on pudding and I wanted someone to run to the market for me. Yup, the only time I really regret the lack of a man in my life is when I want to pout and make someone else go by me some ice cream.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Sick girls shouldn't run for the bus.
Well, I wasn't wrong, this is a truly crazy month, and it just occurred to me that it's almost half over - how did that happen? Work has been busy, the weekend was busy - although much fun, as well - and then this week found me germ infested.
First this weekend, because bottomless champagne brunch and flip-flops in February are so much nicer to ponder than coughing fits and runny noses. That's right, in a sudden burst of sunshine, I went to Indian brunch with Bill and Anna, where chicken curry and palak paneer were simmering, the bubbly flowed, and conversation - well, Bill and Anna are never boring! When Anna and I stumbled upon the topic of mani/pedis and decided to treat ourselves, the day became a holiday in my book. We left the salon wearing the world's most uncomfortable flip flops, but our toes looked great, and I peer-pressured her into my favorite weekend activity, wandering through a bookstore. Even a little bit of work I had to do that evening couldn't dull the shine of my Sunday.
Wednesday, however, I could've done without. I felt fine Monday, and stayed far away from the germy-worms at the office, having dinner with Momola and Daddo that night before heading home to a glass of orange juice and an early bedtime - see, I was good! Tuesday morning I started to feel a little stuffy in the nose area, and by the end of the day I was pretty much crawling. So much so that when Momola offered me a ride home (a.k.a., told me she was driving me home) I didn't have the energy to argue. In fact, the thought of getting on the metro that day made me want to cry. The problem? Wednesday was a big day of meetings at the office - important meetings that I'd helped to arrange and wanted to be part of. However, when showering and walking around in a one-bedroom apartment for half an hour makes you out of breath and in need of a nap, you probably aren't going to be much use outside in the big, wide world. So I waved the white flag, sent the requisite emails, and curled up in a miserable ball. That was pretty much my day. I found enough energy to make tea once, and microwave some soup, and drink OJ. And I slept. A lot. I was glad to wake up this morning feeling much better, and nowhere near as exhausted. I even managed to get ready without feeling the need for a nap. I left the house ready for day two of the meetings I'd missed out on yesterday, and as I got to the top of the hill I saw my bus at the stop - a block away. So I hoofed it. And I made it. But as I sat down and suppressed the coughing spell that threatened to scare my fellow bus riders I realized that I could have waited for the next bus.
Although, maybe if I'd coughed all over the crotch of the man standing in front of me he'd have backed the hell up. I'd say that's a disadvantage of the bus, but on the train, where seats are perpendicular to the side of the car, guys lean their hips on the side of the seat, and you end up with crotch contact at your shoulder - contact.
At least on the bus you can hold your book at a poking height.
First this weekend, because bottomless champagne brunch and flip-flops in February are so much nicer to ponder than coughing fits and runny noses. That's right, in a sudden burst of sunshine, I went to Indian brunch with Bill and Anna, where chicken curry and palak paneer were simmering, the bubbly flowed, and conversation - well, Bill and Anna are never boring! When Anna and I stumbled upon the topic of mani/pedis and decided to treat ourselves, the day became a holiday in my book. We left the salon wearing the world's most uncomfortable flip flops, but our toes looked great, and I peer-pressured her into my favorite weekend activity, wandering through a bookstore. Even a little bit of work I had to do that evening couldn't dull the shine of my Sunday.
Wednesday, however, I could've done without. I felt fine Monday, and stayed far away from the germy-worms at the office, having dinner with Momola and Daddo that night before heading home to a glass of orange juice and an early bedtime - see, I was good! Tuesday morning I started to feel a little stuffy in the nose area, and by the end of the day I was pretty much crawling. So much so that when Momola offered me a ride home (a.k.a., told me she was driving me home) I didn't have the energy to argue. In fact, the thought of getting on the metro that day made me want to cry. The problem? Wednesday was a big day of meetings at the office - important meetings that I'd helped to arrange and wanted to be part of. However, when showering and walking around in a one-bedroom apartment for half an hour makes you out of breath and in need of a nap, you probably aren't going to be much use outside in the big, wide world. So I waved the white flag, sent the requisite emails, and curled up in a miserable ball. That was pretty much my day. I found enough energy to make tea once, and microwave some soup, and drink OJ. And I slept. A lot. I was glad to wake up this morning feeling much better, and nowhere near as exhausted. I even managed to get ready without feeling the need for a nap. I left the house ready for day two of the meetings I'd missed out on yesterday, and as I got to the top of the hill I saw my bus at the stop - a block away. So I hoofed it. And I made it. But as I sat down and suppressed the coughing spell that threatened to scare my fellow bus riders I realized that I could have waited for the next bus.
Although, maybe if I'd coughed all over the crotch of the man standing in front of me he'd have backed the hell up. I'd say that's a disadvantage of the bus, but on the train, where seats are perpendicular to the side of the car, guys lean their hips on the side of the seat, and you end up with crotch contact at your shoulder - contact.
At least on the bus you can hold your book at a poking height.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
buckle your safety belts...
It's going to be a bumpy ride through February. Yesterday at work I was organizing my calendar for the month, and I'm already stressed out about all the stuff we're trying to get done this month - and it's only the 4th! I can't wait for the last week of the month, when I'll be in Boston with the whole family, even little Dumpster! His auntie is taking him to the Museum of Science and the New England Aquarium, and she's hoping there's still snow on the ground since his mean momma moved to Tampa, where hurricanes are more common than snowfall. But for now, it's time to start the day, or attempt a re-boot, as I woke up to the phone before my alarm clock - it was a woman about work. "I'm sorry to call so early..." Let me tell you what, if you call at 6:15am, you'd better have something to say that couldn't go in an email, and that's all I'll say about that.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Super Sunday
Ok, I think the fact that I haven't said anything about football all season tells you about my sports preferences - swiiiiiing, batta batta! I do like a good football game, I just don't really care enough about any particular team to watch most of the time. But I was watching this game, if only because it was an excuse to eat my slow-cooker veggie chili, topped with sour cream, XXXtra sharp cheddar and avacado, with a side of corn bread. Also, Springsteen was playing the halftime show, and a friend from work was singing back-up for him - that's right, remember the choir? My friend was wearing a strangely colored robe, and rocking with Boss. It looked like a wicked good time, and I can't wait to hear what she thought.
Here's the thing, though, it was a great game - run in from the other room because you can hear cheering as the big play is being made kind of game, and there were a couple of those moments! I didn't really care who won, I cheered for and yelled at both sides, and I had a great time. Also, Kurt Warner is HHHOT! Larry Fitzgerald ain't to bad, either. So yeah, not a bad way to spend the evening.
Here's the thing, though, it was a great game - run in from the other room because you can hear cheering as the big play is being made kind of game, and there were a couple of those moments! I didn't really care who won, I cheered for and yelled at both sides, and I had a great time. Also, Kurt Warner is HHHOT! Larry Fitzgerald ain't to bad, either. So yeah, not a bad way to spend the evening.
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