Saturday, September 15, 2007

we’re back, and i was robbed, robbed i tell ya

Stanley went to the local walk-in clinic and it turned out he had an ear infection on top of his cold. I was started to feel a little pre-cold that Thursday, just hoped a good night’s sleep (or two) would fight it off since I rarely get whatever Stanley’s bug du jour is. That was not to be. Whatever the hell it was, we both got it, the worst cold either of us could ever remember.

You know, the kind that runs the gamut from sore throat and achy joints to eyes that water so badly you can’t read to enough snot to raise the level of Lake Huron back up to normal, lack of breath, sore ribs from coughing, inability to sleep unless sitting up, and such a total lack of energy you feel like you’ve got a black hole sucking the life out of you. The bad part of all the colds I’ve ever had that I can remember (I don’t get that many of them, knock on wood) usually lasts about four or five days, maybe a week max. Not this one. Nope. I’m on Day 15 and though it’s almost all gone, I still have very little energy.

Stanley got better a little bit faster than I—good thing, because there was no way I could drive even part of the 900 miles home.

For me, it was one of those nightmare scenarios—I really wanted to spend lots of time with my parents (a lot to talk about—but laryngitis—did I mention laryngitis?—kept me pretty quiet as far as chit chatting went) and go to the beach and take lots of photos with my cameras ... lots of plans, but during this same time I wanted more than anything to be in my own bed or on my own couch. Teleportation would’ve been really handy here—especially since the nights gave me the worst time of it.

Normally, the drive home is bittersweet—I always want to stay longer and start missing my parents as soon as we turn onto County Road, but I enjoy traveling with Stanley and listening to whatever book we have—this year, it’s the latest Harry Potter. This year, the drive was hell for me. I couldn’t get comfortable, I couldn’t stay awake, I missed large portions of the book when I dozed off, I didn’t have the right things to eat but I couldn’t begin to tell Stanley what the right things were (besides chocolate malts), I hated our hotel room (we stayed at the Comfort Inn in Warren, OH as we have been usually, but decided there is only one good room and we didn’t get it this trip) and only liked one thing we did for the entire two days. That was stopping at a coffee shop in Clarion, Pennsylvania for lunch. And no matter how hard he tries, nothing Stanley does is right (even if it totally is) because I turn into such a witch when I’m ill. Which is kind of funny for two or three days but wears thin on Days 8 through 15.

But we made it back (despite a leaky tire) and I haven’t gotten much work at all done but I’m just too tired to worry about it. My email is out of control and I owe lots of people answers and odds and ends but I’m too tired to care. I know exactly what I need to do (three main projects right now) and I’m looking forward to getting back into the groove but I’m just not there yet. Maybe Sunday. I think Candy and Helene are right: I was knocked on my ass so hard because of the incredible stress levels I’d been under.

Maybe Stanley and I (and Ginger) can just go away someplace pretty for a long weekend soon—that would be so nice. Maybe one of those beach side cabins on the ocean on the Cape or some other resort on the off season where we can drink cocoa and build a fire and cuddle wrapped in quilts and read and watch the waves ... it’s something to think about, anyway. That’s what I want for my birthday, I think. (Besides this incredible ceramic plate with the insects painted on it which I’m supposed to forget about until then ... )

posted by lee on 09/15/07 at 11:04 PM

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