Weekends past have always been filled with a bevy of fun things, as was the plan for this weekend. I soon realised upon waking feeling like a bag of assholes on Friday morning, that my weekend plans were about to go tits up.
Once again this winter, my body proved to be a very unreliable team player & decided to succumb to the dreaded sickness that's been hanging round these here parts. With pounding head & achy joints/muscles in tow, I dragged my sorry carcass off to work.
Somehow I made it through the day without dying. However, when I got home on Friday after work I went straight to bed & proceeded to run a temperature that had everyone around me fearing I was either going to seizure or start stroking out at any given moment. My whole body was on fire. Yet I was shivering cold & talking gibberish like a hypothermic crack baby. Blake tried to be the hero & cool me down with his magic fairy (naturopathic) tricks but to no avail. I was balls deep in sickness & only the good light of Saturday morn would tell how I had feared through that awful Friday evening.
Apart from a slightly tender nose/throat area from the hearty snoring sleep coma I had been in the night prior, I had come out the other side pretty much unscathed.
So I got up & ventured out into the Antarctic Nelson winter cold (in hindsight, this could have been my undoing) with my mum for our weekly fruit & veg gathering at the local market. I felt fine.
When Blake finished work at midday we went out for lunch then went hunting for some pliers. His giant man hand toolkit pliers were not cutting the mustard for me when assembling my earrings so we had to purchase some special pliers for my carnie hands to grapple confidently. We found some. After visiting both Mitre 10 Mega & Bunnings.
While the old gent who works the tool section was away finding me the pair of pliers I needed, I started to run out of steam. As I sat to rest my weary body, my attention was quickly drawn to a sign hanging on the wall. Please keep in mind that I did not have my glasses on.......
Something dirty was happening at Bunnings Warehouse. They were selling vag?
So I hollered for the husband & pointed it out to him.
Me: "Babe, they sell vag at Bunnings Warehouse?".....
Hubs: "What are you on cracker?"
Me: "No look up there at that sign". *me pointing nicely manicured finger to sign. "It says wet/dry vag?"
Hubs: *looking at sign.... "It says vac not vag you mong. It's a C not a G!!"
Me: "Oh. Well it looked like a G to me".
Hubs: "Anyway if it was vag they would be ripping people off selling both wet vag & dry vag for the same price"
Me: "Ew ok. Too much thought went into that comment but fair point. Where's my goddam pliers?"
And with that, the tool section man hobbled back with the pliers I was looking for. And we went home.
What proceeded that afternoon outing was another night of jacked up temperatures, achy neck, a blazing sore throat & the worst ear ache I have ever experienced in my 32 years on this planet.
Blake had his brother over to watch rugby so I was pardoned to the bedroom like some freak leper to die in private. In between fits of sleep I would howl like a strangled cat causing Blake to come running to my aid. I would do this when I wanted water or snacks. Or just a caring husband cuddle.
He never slept in our bed with me last night. I fear my current feral condition has turned him off me. He told me this morning that I was snoring so loudly, it made him a little bit scared. He felt like he was sharing a bed with a monster who was going to eat his face while he slept. So he slept in the lounge.
I accepted his explanation & proceeded to complain that I felt terrible & my ear was really blocked & how he knows how having blocked ears makes me crazy.
No really, having a blocked ear makes me lose my shit.
When ones ear is overrun by disease & becomes blocked, the acoustics change inside your cranium.
Once normal every day tasks become pure torture. Such as:
- Putting your head under the shower head. The sound in your head I can only compare to that of a torrential downpour on a rusty tin roof.
- Washing your hair. Massaging the shampoo into your skull sounds like someone grating potatoes on a cheese grater.
- Brushing your teeth. It sounds like someone is cleaning out the inside of your head with an industrial sander.
- Eating chips. The inane million decibel crunching is enough to drive even the sanest of people loony.
- Breathing. It's so amplified you would swear Darth Vader is lurking in the depths of your noggin.
- Bending over to tie your laces Every time I do it it feels like my head is going to explode out my head orifices.
So here I am. It's been a bloody long week with a below par weekend to round it off. And tomorrow a new week begins. I would love to spend another day in bed but I have way too much to do at work plus I have meetings which I am expected to attend. Poo!!
And I missed my nephews birthday party today which sucks. So Happy Birthday Seth! I know you never read my blog mainly because you are 4 & also have good christian parents who would never allow you access to your Auntys online filth tirades, but I still love you little man. And I really wanted to share it with the internet people. I hope you had the bestest party ever! x
Oh yeah, & in my last post I was talkin about my new sideline/hobby. To check out what I'm up to when I'm not here in Blogland, you can click on this Facebook link & it should take you right there.
I hope this post finds you all in good health. If not, then I am sorry for you, but bet you didn't cough up a mysterious alien fetus like me?
Peace, love & fail immune systems