I am sick. Maybe it is inflamed rib cartilage (which I have had before, in case you thought I was making it up) maybe it is swine flu (Swiiiiine Fluuuu!) but either way it is shit. Can't sleep because ribs hurt, can't shower because get light-headed and/or vomit, can't really do anything except sit, shiver, and feel like someone is trying to carve my ribs out of my side with a butter knife.
Have spent the day lying in bed/on the couch feeling grim, but then Kate came home at 3.30, charged into my room with the dog in tow, and leapt on the bed. Which prompted the dog to do the same. It is a single bed and he is not a small dog and Kate, while not overly heavy, would not shut up. "How do you feel?" she asked with some concern. "Like shit," came my succinct reply. "I think," she said, "you should make a miraculous recovery and come to the mall with me, then watch Home & Away." She fed me 2 painkillers, which had exactly no effect, then spent an hour sitting on the bed reading me excerpts of our old school magazine. "When you're sick," I said, "you shout at anyone who comes into your room to leave immediately, then begin roaring in rage if they don't. You are a horror. Go away." She grinned cheerfully and began singing a little song which consisted entirely of random vowel sounds and no key to speak of, and then I hauled my aching carcass out of bed and plonked myself in front of the computer.
She has taken the dog for a run, iPod tied to the drawstring of her pants, but when she gets back I am going to make dinner. Why am I doing this, you may ask? "Because you're sitting up at the computer, you're better." "I'm only up because you were so annoying. I'm still sick!" "Well, you're up now."
Can't believe she is doing nursing. "Frankly, Mr. Williams, I'm bored with your burst appendix now. Up you get! We're going to convalesce at the beach today."
Waaaaaaah! I wanna sit on the couch in my sleeping bag and watch DVDs and maybe drink some whiskey like sick people are supposed to*, not run around making dinner. Being sick is one of the only times you can just do nothing and that is perfectly OK because you feel like at any moment you could keel over and die of sheer self-pity. Kate is the sort of woman who would prise you from your deathbed to help her select an outfit for the funeral.
Also, yes, I will go to the doctor if I'm not better in a couple of days.
No other news except that did you know there is a species of New Zealand weta that is so adapted to living in the mountains that it can freeze overnight, thaw out in the morning and be absolutely fine?
*What? It's good for you. I used to work with a girl who started losing her voice - her doctor suggested she drink a shot of whiskey several times a day. Either she was a big ol' alcoholic liar, or I need to change doctors. Anyway my point is that I would feel better right now if I had someone bringing me tea and whiskey every so often - damn it Xalion, invent that vodka robot already.