Sick Day

Most days my body and I are great friends. We go on walking trips around the city together. We share ice cream. We run in slow motion through fields of poppies.

But then sometimes I do things to make it angry. Things like paintballing when I’m really not good at paintballing and bruising the poor thing all up. As of result of these moments of inconsideration, my body gets angry. Now, sometimes the ol’ gal can rise above the pettiness and just let things relax back to normal, but other times I just irk her so much that she must have her revenge.

Thus, I am with fever and writing this from bed.

Now, some may not see the causality between my paintballing over two weeks ago and my illness today, but I know what’s up. My body’s a wily one and is known for playing the long game.

Lest you be put off by my feverish ramblings, let me assure you that I am doing my utmost to return myself to the state of health of which I am accustomed. I have everything necessary to mend the fissure between myself and my body:



-          Copious amounts of tea and chicken noodle soup. (I’m a traditionalist.)

-          Pile of books I’ve been looking forward to reading, including:
o       A Sliver of Shadow, Allison Pang
o       Blackbirds, Chuck Wendig
o       The Night Circus, Erin Morgenstern
o       A Charmed Death, Madelyn Alt
o       Ever, Gail Carson Levine

-          The Unusuals on DVD. (If the folks from the 2^nd can’t make me feel better, I’m pretty sure my body has officially sided with the squirrels.)

All right, now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to moaning.