Who gets the Flu in the middle of July?

I had intended to type up some snarky commentary made during my 8-hour wait at the movie theatre before the midnight premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two in Imax 3D. I am still going to do so, but first I thought I would let the cyber world know that I am indeed alive (although for a few days there I definitely did not feel that way.)


What I am now calling “The Great July Sickness” or “G-JSssss” for short, began on Friday afternoon. I was sitting behind a table on a small platform in the Norman Worthington Conference Center, a member of a “student” panel for the parents of incoming freshmen, and I started to notice that I was behaving oddly. My sentences were more inarticulate than usual, I was interjecting more uhms and thinking pauses into my answers than the panel last week, and when the Dean of Students asked me what my favorite memory at St. Martin’s had been, I just blinked stupidly at her like a deer in the headlights for a few moments and couldn’t think of one. When I got home that evening I had been planning on cleaning, but found myself to be unusually tired. I thought nothing of it, watched some Bones, and went to sleep.

Saturday morning I woke up and got to work housecleaning. I started with my room. In addition to cleaning, I was streamlining and downgrading my space; adding peace and removing clutter. I found it a little odd that I was having to sit down and take breaks every hour or so, and about two hours in (after I had moved my fountain and sand garden and zen butterfly rock to the top of my white shelf) I started to notice a strange catch in my throat. I thought that perhaps I was having a strange reaction to my new cleaning spray (even though I had used the spray many times before). I also found it strange that while listening to Jason Robert Brown’s The Trumpet of the Swan I sat down on my carpet and bawled my eyes out. Well, perhaps it isn’t that strange, I mean JRB’s music paired with John Lithgow’s voice? Ok, not strange at all.

****sidenote: I absolutely adore the Method brand carried at Target and other retailers. But I shop Target. It doesn’t smell of harsh chemicals and does a great job, also (and you know I’m a sucker for this) the packaging is lovely.

Saturday evening, after cleaning the room and bathroom, I decided it was time to finally make new curtains for my bedroom. I’ve a long list of simple plans to fix up my room without having to completely redo or repaint it, and curtains have been topping the list for months. What ensued was what you would call a comedy of errors, in which I proceeded to halve all of the measurements, instead of just the width, measure from two different marks on my cutting table, include extra fabric in a seam which shows when blocking light, and end up with the saddest curtains gone wrong, two different lengths, hanging in my bedroom. Everything that happened would have been an extremely easy fix, but I am beginning to suspect that my fever was already upon me. I couldn’t think or concencrate. Those pathetic, uneven curtains still hang unfixed in my bedroom because all I have been able to do for the last three days is stair at them pathetically from my couch, unmoving. I will see about fixing them today. Maybe. By the time the curtains were hanging in my room, the fever was definite, my throat was burning, my head was aching. I still had not figured out that I was sick, I just thought that I had a bad reaction to the cold, damp basement.

Sunday morning I knew. The fever, alternately burning and freezing, had a hold of my entire body. I was dizzy, I couldn’t move without the world spinning, around and around. My speaking voice was unintelligable–the sinuses had done their work. It was 6:30, I had to leave for work in an hour and a half, and I was paralyzed. My only coworker already had plans to be out of town, but there was no way I could go into work, so I called in sick anyway. It took me a few tries to croak out my message through my raw throat, and then I tumbled back into an overwhelmed heap. I think I woke around 11am, and took two more naps on Sunday, each a few hours long. The rest of the time I watched internet tv, alternating between Bones and A Game of Thrones. I was about ready to cry when I had to get up to press play on the next episode.

Monday morning I got up with every intention of going to work. Then I promptly laid back down, still dizzy. I emailed/texted in and went back to sleep. This day the fever wasn’t all-body enveloping, but localized. My head pounded, all the nose-throat things dripped and oozed and hurt, but it was all mostly ok as long as I didn’t move. And I didn’t want to move.

Tuesday I actually did go to work. It took me about thirty minutes to get my tights on because in the middle of pulling them over my knees I had to sit down on the couch and take a breather. When I got to work everybody kind of laughed at me, I gave a tour, and then they sent me home. I went back to sleep. More sleep, more internet tv, more inability to travel farther than my bathroom. (I am pretty sure that I ate cocoa puffs for breakfast and dinner, as they required almost no preparation.)

Today, Wednesday, I am finally feeling like a living being and not like a walking contagion. My nose is still runny and I have an occasional nasty-sounding cough, but I can talk and walk, and thank god the world is no longer spinning.

I missed lots of calls and texts while in NyQuil induced slumber, so if you tried to contact me, sorry. I should probably call all those people back…bother.

This sickness has stolen from me 15 1/4 paid hours, a ballet class, a Harry Potter trivia night at a bar, and probably a few brain cells. I am, however, one episode away from Season 5 of Bones, so I accomplished something.


a sniffly yet somewhat less pathetic than yesterday


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