Well, well, well. What I thought was tiredness turns out to be THE weirdest virus I've ever had in my life. (I swear: the world ain't gonna end with a bang or a whimper, but with us all dying quietly, unwhimperingly, from an assault by a diverse and ugly collection of attacking microbes.)
Anyway --- I've spent most of the past four days in a horizontal position. Not feeling sick, exactly. Just . . . unable to move.
Then last night, quite suddenly, my temperature soared, I experienced THE worst case of chills ever, and wondered if the end was near. I crawled under the covers, lots of them, and lay there for what felt like an eternity. (Wondering if maybe I had died, and the afterlife looked like a dark, soft pile of duvet.)
And then wham! My temp returned to normal, the chills evaporated --- and I felt . . . alive. A bit tired, but otherwise normal.
I blame all of this, by the way, on The Baby: during our recent visit, he was sick. Ya know, in that way babies are so delightfully, concretely sick: Constant flow of snot, boogers galore. Baby-sized coughing, wheezing, and hacking. A waterfall of virus-laden drool streaming from his mouth. And of course vomit aplenty.
All of it taking place simultaneously and, more often than not, landing on me (because I had a hard time letting go of the gorgeous creature. I am besotted.)
But I digress. During my down time these past few days, I discovered that Twitter is sweetly suited for the sick. In the ten minutes I could manage being upright, I could scan Tweets, zip off a couple of re-tweets, and lay back down knowing the world was still out there, ticking away without me.
Sooooo..... I may hang low for a few more days, just to make sure this viral beast has in fact split the scene. And then I will return. I hope all of you are well --- because the alternative is soooooooooo not fun.