Tired Of Being Tired

Mmm. I like the way popcorn smells.

So, I'm sick. Y'all know that. I've been so persistently sick that I'm thinking of going to the doctor. This is a big step for me-- where I come from, you go to the doctor when you've got a broke leg, not because you've got the sniffles.

I've got a friend (of a friend) who was sick, much like I am, for weeks and weeks-- not debilitating, but certainly no fun. He finally went to the doctor, and they diagnosed him with pneumonia.

Eep. People die from that stuff. I don't want any of that.

So I did about six hours of work today and came home. I drank orange juice, sniffled, and then went to sleep for three hours. Now, here I am, tea and popcorn before me. I'm like some kind of freaking invalid. At least I can type! Whee!

Scott and Lynne are back. Scott I've seen (and had a nice time hanging out with), Lynne I haven't. But it's nice just knowing they're around if I need them.

I did some work on a short story last night, which will be called "Tell it to a Dog," or, maybe, "Uncrowned Kings." It's a contemporary fantasy (aren't they all?) with a tenuous connection to the King of Cats story. I put some more stories in the mail yesterday, too. I'm slowly getting up to speed.

I don't know if I'll make it to the big party tomorrow night-- it depends on how I feel. I want to party, but I also want to get better, and what if all my body needs is some rest and respect? If that's the case, I shouldn't go getting all inebriated and staying up late... I'm not stressing about it. Parties aren't about stress (unless you're throwing them, heh), and I'll go if I feel up to it.

I'll still go meet writer-people on Sunday, though, unless I'm feeling lots worse than this. Sitting around and chatting is apt to be easier on my body than standing on a table whooping and drinking Newcastle after Newcastle into the night, don’t you think?

Meg wrote to me today, after hearing I was still sick. I offer her words by way of showing you what a good girlfriend she is. And also because it's funny, and you want your giggles, right?

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Why aren't you here? You should be here! I want you to be here! Let's see, if you were here and still sick, I would put you in bed and tuck in the covers around you, especially your feet. I would then make you a cup of hot tea with honey and lemon. I would read to whatever you wanted. I would do the reading naked. Then as you fell asleep for a much-needed nap, I would run to the video store and rent a movie for you. Hmmm...which movie? I would rent Hellraiser, Casablanca, The Big Lebowski, and Bambi Does Manhatten, just to cover all the bases. When I returned, you would be just waking up. I would put the movie in and fix you a glass of ginger ale with crushed ice. We would watch the movie with your head in my lap and me stroking your hair. After the movie I would make you another cup of tea and you would take another nap...

Get the picture?

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Ain't she the greatest?

If I don't get out of the house, I'm going to go batshit insane (That's slightly less insane than "Crazy as a shithouse rat" and slightly more insane than "Bugshit crazy." Just to help y'all get your scatological/madness scale calibrated). I should go grocery shopping, but what I’m more likely to do is wander down to Pergolesi and read. That's a lot less effort.

Hotmail's been erratic these past couple of days, only letting me in occasionally. So if I haven't replied to your email, it's not that I don't love you, it's that I can't.

Okay. I'm off.