While I type this, Blogger is glaring at me from the corner of my screen, shouting that an outage is scheduled in half an hour and I'd better get to typing.
It's disconcerting.
Anyway, as this week has dragged on, I've noticed that I am no longer the young sprite I once was. One night spent whooping it up in New York City, and suddenly the rest of my week is shot. I couldn't function on Monday and I barely pulled it together for Tuesday.
Tuesday night, though, I felt it. You know what I'm talking about: That little dry patch in the back of your throat, the one that feels like you've swallowed an tiny square of sandpaper and it somehow got stuck to your uvula. The one that feels like, if you could just drink some water to moisten it, it would go away. So you drink water, but it doesn't go away. And you just know, right then, what's coming...
So I went out yesterday and bought Airborne. I've heard about it, but never bought it before as I've always thought it was just a ploy to get my money. And their ploy worked, because $8 later I was back at work, dissolving the tablet in my glass of water and chugging it.
But I should've just spent my $8 on Kleenex and Advil Cold and Sinus instead. Because sitting at a local restaurant last night with my boyfriend, my dad and my mom - for her birthday dinner - the sniffles started. And somewhere between the tequila shot my mom did with Billy, and the Birthday song that the waiters and waitresses sang for my mom, I hit a wall. Suddenly, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was yawning, and sniffling. And, what's worse, I didn't drink anything all night. All night, people! Me! No booze! Because I - gasp! - just didn't feel like it.
After we dropped my parents off at their house, Billy and I headed to our home. And, as soon as we got there, I crawled into that luscious bed of ours and...Passed the fuck out.
I was out cold in a matter of minutes. I was curled up on Billy's chest. Mouth open. Drooling, probably. Immobile.
"You were so cute last night," Billy said to me this morning. "Sleeping like that. It was adorable."
"Did I have my mouth open?"
"Of course you did."
"Is that why you were laughing at me?" I vaguely recalled a moment where I opened my heavy eyes, only to see him giggling, his face pointed directly at me. I shrugged and went back to sleep.
"No, I was laughing because I got up for a minute, and when I came back, you were all the way on my side of the bed. I mean, all the way. There wasn't even an inch for me. So I tried moving you gently so that I wouldn't wake you up, but you were dead weight. So, then I had to sort of pick you up, and that's when you woke up, all confused. But you just closed your eyes right after you opened them. I could've done anything to you last night."
It was nearly impossible to get up this morning, and it's been impossible to focus today. I have a big box of Puffs Plus (With lotion!) next to my computer, my Purell on hand, vitamins, juice and cold medicine. It's very, very sexy.
And I'm pretty sure this is the penance I'm paying for an evening that didn't end until the sun came up.
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3 comments:
I am betting by the cat that just ate the canary look on your face that your night on the town NYC style was totally worth it! For the record I am jealous!
Whenever I'm sick I make sure a box of Puffs Plus follows me wherever I go. You sound downright adorable when you sleep. I wish I was that cute. Actually I wish I had a man who offered to do whatever he wanted to me while I was passed out. Wait, that sounds wrong...but you get my drift.
Oh no! Feel better. I always take airborne when I feel like I might be getting sick, even though I am not entirely convinced it works. I figure, doesn't hurt!
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