The last twenty-four hours have been my own special hell. By the time I rolled out of Panera yesterday I was feeling sorta okay, but after paying a bill and having lunch, I knew I was sinking fast. I figured it was a cold, so yesterday afternoon I bundled up, took some medication, and relaxed.
By six PM I knew the truth: I had the flu.
I was tired; I couldn’t concentrate that well; I hurt all over, particularly in my joints. I wasn’t running a fever–or if I was, I didn’t realize it–but I was coughing a lot. Sometimes it was a dry cough, sometimes a lot of stuff from my chest would come up.
It has been hard to do anything, but I’m doing it. I was out already this morning to pick up some food, things I could eat that would make me feel better. I had oatmeal with blueberries and honey, with a little yogurt on the side. Later I’ll have tea and more yogurt. Light, healthy things that will help get my flu out of my system by helping my immune system.
Oh, and I’m doing laundry, because I have nothing clean, and the sooner I get this done, then I can get back into my pajamas and relax.
I’m trying to write, but it’s slow going. I can only work about fifty to hundred words at a time, then I have to go sit or lay down for about thirty, forty minutes, because it hurts to look at the screen, it hurts to sit on this little writing chair, and whenever I start coughing my head hurts.
This sucks very hard.
I wrote last night, but over the course of four hours I only managed five hundred and sixty words. I know: stupid. I should have just relaxed. At the same time my mind was working, and I couldn’t shut it down, so I had to get up and write. I consider it a victory, because I did create something that was actually worthwhile. Had to do it, just like I’m blogging today. I should be resting, but I’m crazy.
And then I didn’t sleep that well, but when I did, I was dreaming of running from zombies and figuring out how to make maps showing infestation locations using Photoshop. Yeah, it wasn’t fun, and I blame Zombie Lori, because I want to see her come back and eat Rick’s face, and it’s probably not going to happen . . .
Today I rest. I’ll probably get well enough tomorrow to be able to head into work. That’s always the suck, because your weekend is completely in the toilet and there is nothing you can do, but come Monday you have your energy back, just enough that you can make it through the day in a semi-coherent mode. That’ll be me: semi-coherent, making a show of the situation. But I probably will feel better tomorrow.
Then I can get back into my life.