an excuse

I wrote this last night in the tub, spaced out on a 1/2 dose of Nyquil.
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I don't mind being sick, really. I don't like it, but it's not the worst thing in the world either (qualifier- this is for the flu or stomach bugs, not sinus infections- they are too close to the brain). I tend to just take the proper medication and either sleep or float around in a dream world. With the excuse of being sick, both are enjoyable.

The moments leading up to full blown, recognized sickness are, on the other hand, awful. Allen proposed to me during one of these. We were on Jam Cruise, a floating 7 day concert arena, and he'd planned the special moment for dinner. We were too late for the last seating and I literally threw an adult fit- some of the worst and most embarassing moments of my life. After finally talking me into room service, he slipped the ring onto the arriving tray and popped the question. It made for a difficult retelling every time. Whereas I would've like to have glossed things over, leaving out the bad mood and fit, I always felt the need to include it out of honesty. Looking back, I wonder if he felt a rush of doubt, watching his future fiance behave like that. The following night, I broke into a raging fever during a Les Claypool set and was as happy as a clam, even though I slept the most of our remaining vacation. At least, then, I had an excuse.

I don't think I've been too awful before this bout although I have been testy towards some male friends who, I think, have been patronizing and overly corrective. Whether or not it's true, I have an excuse. The whole 9 hour drive, I was achy and felt like an anvil were sitting on my chest, inspiring the occasional painful cough. But I knew I was sick, so all good- just sang to Hobo and enjoyed the road and sunshine. In Alpine, I unloaded the truck, found the Nyquil and ate a dinner of edamame peas and cold baked potato on the floor of the kitchen with Chloe as she performed an elaborate, extra cute cereal dance, flipping over and back in her new, beloved kitty bed. I'm now in a hot bath and barely here, heater running overhead, reminding me to drink water. I work a double tomorrow at the Blue Javalina and I'm so looking forward to it... after a long memory-less sleep. I'd feel bad going to bed at 8pm, but at least now, I have an excuse.