Well… what a week.
I don’t even know where to begin.
Saturday – SO HOT. Temps were supposed to get to 41*C, but stopped at 38*. Which is kinda like saying “I thought he was going to murder me, but I got stabbed instead.” Spend day eating Hydrolite pops and moving as little as possible.
Sunday – Migraine. Spent rest of the day moving as little as possible. At 9:30PM, get hella inspired and make a totally achievable writing schedule for myself and convince myself I’ll stick to it. Joel makes enough curry to feed a small nation. Eat Valentines Day themed donuts. Feel good about upcoming week.
Monday – Shit rolls down hill, and it all rolled down hill and on to me. Work was abnormally cranky, insane, and 3 hours longer than scheduled. Felt like shit. Remembered Valentines Day at 8:30 PM. Stupid snit with Joel. Did not adhere to writing schedule. In bed by 10PM, no fucks given. Kept waking up because I was too hot. Then too cold. Then too hot. Repeat for 4 hours.
Tuesday – Shit continued to roll down hill. Spent all day in ball of stress and fever. Decorated store bought heart shaped cookies with $3 icing and loved it. Made up with Joel. Ordered pizza at 7:00PM. Pizza arrived 3.5 hours later. Furious email written to pizza manager. No writing schedule. Went to bed feeling sad, stressed, sick, dehydrated. More restlessness.
Wednesday – Temporary cessation of shit rolling, but had fever/hot flashes and body pains and uncontrollable sneezes all day. PMS in full swing. No writing AGAIN. In bed by 9PM, no fucks given.
Thursday – Fever all day. Another teammate resigned. Sat in dark room for 20 minutes wondering “what’s going to happen now?” Forgot how to spell my name. One of my best friends back home broke up with her boyfriend and is in a rough place. Spend evening on the couch balled up watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants while crying (PMS) and fast forwarding through Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 also while crying. More fever. Opened computer to write, immediately closed it. Spent the rest of the evening watching Michael Bolton’s Big Sexy Valentines Day Special on Netflix and Googling Michael Bolton while ignoring responsibilities.
Friday – Stayed home from work. Re-signed lease. Fever blisters on lips. Too sick to make it to Casey’s farewell drinks. Full on flu. Gave 4 vials of blood to figure out what’s been wrong with me for the past 2 weeks. Take 18 hour nap. Wake up to death and flu. Stuff myself with medicine, clean obsessively. Watch amazing storms roll through. Mom lets me know that Lucy is sick. More cleaning. Schedule gives up all hope of being followed.
Saturday – Mom lets me know Lucy’s in liver failure and the outlook isn’t good. Spend 20 minutes on the phone crying. I can’t deal with this. Even writing about it today is painful. Joel is a sweet angel baby and takes me out shopping to distract me. I get my first pair of Nikes and my first Ralph Lauren Polo shirt. Question who I really am as a person. Lucy died. Spend entire day distracting myself from thinking about her. Almost purchased unicorn jacket.
Sunday – 42 loads of laundry. Long phone chats with family back home. Brunch with Casey. Planning to make carbonara for dinner.
Today’s been a bit hard. Now that I’m by myself, I’m just thinking of my family’s sweet pup. She was “mine” in name only, but really she was my entire family’s. And… yeah. I’ll save it for a time when I can actually write about her.
So, that’s been this week. I’ve been sick and stressed (one follows the other, naturally) and dealing with loss – my coworkers/awesome pals, my therapist (who’s going to work with at risk youth totally stupid and selfish and noble and she’s amazing and I’m so sad at her), my dog, my schedule, my routines, my motivation to do anything other than watch Netflix and eat curry. So not exactly a banner week or a week where I thrived. I was a bag of wet socks.
I’ll be back later with a proper catchup.