Tuesday, March 15, 2005


The sick that started in my throat and then moved into my head has migrated down to my belly. At the end of last week I was finally feeling like I was moving toward 100%, or at least 87% since I was no longer running a fever. The fact that I was feeling violent reactions in my stomach every time I ate something? Well, I was thinking that maybe it was just a little irritation. Plus, I was so over not feeling good, I wanted to be able to go out and play and have fun, and I had plans to do so. I wanted to celebrate registering my script with a fabulous sushi lunch at my favorite, very expensive place.

So I did.

Friday night it was clear that something was really wrong with me. I was tired and I felt sick, it was all I could do to get home and get in bed. I woke up on Saturday and left town as planned, but I was dragging. And by Sunday night when I got home I felt like hell. I had to go to bed and lay in the fetal position moaning until I fell asleep.

I got up Monday and worked out because part of being in denial is to continue with your routine as if nothing is wrong. So what if it takes much longer and requires a lot more effort. I had plans last night with the divine Ms. M whom I hadn't seen in a month of Sundays and we were meeting at my favorite neighborhood place I can walk to with the excellent goat cheese fondue and cute bartender.

Once I got there it was great fun. Fun to catch up and eat yummy snacks and martinis. Fun to mock the pervy car salesmen who were sitting on our left and to flirt with the adorable Englishmen sitting on our right. Fun to talk about men and the importance of attraction and how hard it is to date someone who's "really nice," but whom you don't want to swap spit with because you're not attracted. Even when you think you should be attracted, it's not something you can force. I tried this, it didn't work, and it really wasn't fair or nice, and it was really frustrating because the guy was great on paper. I wanted to want him.

Time flew and by the time I got home it was nearing 11:00pm. The twinges I was ignoring in the restaurant became full blown gongs of pain and I was back in the fetal position like the night before. I woke up all night long to experience the pain. If I hadn't talked to my mom yesterday who is about a week further into this viral ride, I would be thinking that this is just how things are so I better get used to it. But I talked to a few other people and apparently I have the "something" that's going around.

I am so over it. I'm sick of staying home. I'm sick of being tired. I'm sick of being sick. I am just going to soldier through and make plans to go out and have a good time. I don't care if I have to spend time in the fetal position afterwards because it hurts.

I don't care anymore.

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