I knew that I jinxed myself when I said that I never actually get sick. The Universe was listening. And I have spent the past several days caccooning myself in my duvet on the couch, feverishly clutching the remote, no energy even to read.
When I am sick, I basically exist on the couch. I have never been one to stay in bed, I feel like I am missing out. And I'm not a big sleeper when I'm sick either. I like to pretend that I'm still 8, when my mom would make a bed on the couch and bring me water, juice and dry toast. If I was starting to feel better, I would get jam on my toast. I would also get full control of the remote, to watch whatever garbage was on daytime TV.
Of course, pretend is the keyword here. I do not live with my mom (and if I did, I seriously doubt she would still treat me like that for fear that then I would never move out) so if I am sick, I have to get my own toast.
Unfortunately for you lot (thank you for your kind words: "I have been waiting for a blog post since Friday missy" and "I need something to pass the time, blog post please"- your concern really strengthened me) my convalescence does not involve a laptop. In fact, aside from a quick peek at celebrity headlines, I completely shun the computer in favour of the TV.
So because you all seemed so interested in what I did while I wasn't working, here is a breakdown of my time on the couch.
My Nyquil induced coma generally wore off around 10, at which time I stumbled out of bed, gathered my duvet and propped myself on the couch with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and the remote clutched in my sweaty little hand. Also some sort of Vicks inhaler that was supposed to make it easier to breathe but instead, I think it made it look like I had some kind of inhalant dependency.
So at 10, I watched Criminal Minds. Serial killers are more fascinating when its bright outside and ther e are no spooky shadows to scare the crap out of me (I am a wimp). Plus who doesn't like a little psychopath with their morning meal?
At 11 I felt like I should lighten it up with Ellen although to be fair, the boyfriend was home both days and he hates crime shows, so instead of watching Cold Case Files, I thought that Ellen would be a nice compromise. Ellen is so great, saving relationships and stuff.
Noon was always a bit of a dryspell. I toyed with the idea of watching Maury, either "If You Slept With My Aunt, We're Over!" or "15,16, and 17- Are You My Baby's Daddy?". I have been a big fan of Maury's work since I was a teenager. My mom hated it, I'm pretty sure she even tried to get me help. But I was addicted. Even wrote a paper on it for a university class once (something about the medium, there was so much academia to wade through that it took me a whole 3 hours to do 3 weeks' worth of research and writing). But here again, I was foiled by the boyfriend. The look on his face said it all: "I am losing so much respect for you right now". I pretended not to want to watch it.
As is so often the case when you have all the time in the world to do something about it, there was nothing really worth watching on the PVR. I caught up on some Grey's (like I said, nothing worth watching), watched one or 2 episodes of Say Yes to the Dress (a guilty pleasure, I'm not getting married, but the dresses are so pretty). Mostly I just kept looking at the list, hoping that there was something there that I wanted to watch.
Most of the time I was flipping through channels, hoping for something better than Guiding Light or Oprah. That's right, I don't like Oprah. In fact, I can't stand her. She makes me want to vomit. Between bouts of Oprah hating, I was just hoping for some decent movies to be on. I watched Shrek the Third, Milk, caught some of 200 Cigarettes (and promptly searched for it to record and watch later), half of Definitely Maybe, and the beginning of a charming little movie with Demi Moore- something about the Best Summer of our Lives? A definite dry spell in the movies on TV department.
Monday night was hockey. I live in Canada, its basically illegal not to watch. Home team lost though. Again. Sure wish that goalie of ours would show us that he's worth it. Loved when he got pulled. Looked like he was going to cry. You should cry man, I am ashamed of you too!
Last night was just TV as usual. Tuesdays are good for TV.
At one point I did manage to leave the house to go to the clinic. I figured I should get a $10 sick note to prove that I was in fact ill (not that my chest rattling death cough couldn't do the job) so I went to the clinic. Doctor didn't even touch me, don't think she looked at me, just filled out the note. Sure, I waited an hour and might have exposed myself to real Swine Flu (this guy left the clinic hurriedly with a mask on his face that wasn't there when he went in) but now I have my sick note. Everybody wins.
So if you are still reading, you will note that I was bored at home. So bored that I even started telling myself that it would be more fun to have been at work. Clearly the meds were making me delirious. Today, the meds are making me rambly and unfunny. The Universe also decided to kick me when I was down by putting me on a late bus again. I didn't catch the bus later, the bus was just late. By 45 minutes today. And I'm dizzy. If I passed out at work, do you think they would do anything?
I'll keep you posted.