Coming back from CA last week, Keanu came down with a stomach virus. Then my son caught it and missed his first day of school. We had a couple of days reprieve and then I came down with it as well. I have effectively lost my Thursday. It is kind of bummer because I was going to potentially see about getting my Christmas groove on. My son’s seventh birthday is next week Sunday. We have no party plans. We have one gift. I am having trouble getting into the spirit. I am hopeful that there is some way that I can get out of having a big to-do for this birthday. We usually try not to go too crazy and honestly, this year, I feel like I haven’t got the energy to get something together. I am hoping that he will not be too disappointed if we do not have some sort of shindig for him.

Yesterday, late in the afternoon, I had a doctor’s appointment for my son and while we sat at the Kaiser clinic waiting I just kept feeling sicker and sicker. It was one of those things where at some point you know your body is going to be ejecting things but the jury is still out as to which end (or both ends.) After about twenty minutes I decided to cut my losses and head out to pick up Keanu. I could feel my window shutting rapidly. By the time I got home I was running a fever. I was freezing. It didn’t help that I had allowed Tony Horton to punish my body for three days because every muscle ached from working out. We won’t discuss the bodily fluids except to say that it was generally unpleasant. Keanu took care of our son, feeding him the soup I had made for dinner and ensuring that his homework was completed. He got him ready for bed and read him stories. I was a lump in the bed.

Today I was certain that I would be OK. That I would be up and about and raring to do things. I was mistaken. I spent the day in bed watching bad TV and dozing off and on. By bad TV, I mean bad TV. There were no Project Runway or Top Chef marathons on. I had to make do with America’s Next Top Model (Tyra is out of control) and Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders (surprisingly on the gay channel – not the country music channel). I finally took a shower and felt better, hopeful that my stomach had settled. I had eaten some wheat thins to see what would happen and well, it wasn’t good. So I am still not hungry and my stomach is still not settled. I need to feel better tomorrow. I have to swing by my future (and past) place of employment to pick up some paperwork, print out a letter to the jury clerk and go down to the courthouse to plead poverty if they make me be on the jury since it will delay my start date.

But the saddest thing about still being sick today is that we will not have our first Taco Bell Thursday in six months. It is what Keanu and I do every Thursday night after our son goes to bed. It marks the end of the week, like when you were in college and didn’t take Friday classes. We get some really bad and tasty fast food and watch the previous night’s Top Chef. It has gotten so that if I am watching Top Chef, I am wondering why I am not eating Taco Bell. It is the only fast food I eat and I love it. It was impossible to have Taco Bell Thursday in NY because the closest Taco Bell is like forty minutes away (one way). If we did have it, it was always kind of room temperature and sad. Just these small derailments since returning to Hawaii are enough to prevent me from getting on track both mentally and physically. I hope that tomorrow will be better and my body will begin to behave more normally. Maybe next week’s Taco Bell Thursday will just end up being ten times sweeter than if we had it today.

About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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