Better, Relatively Speaking

So, I got this cold last week. No big deal, right? It's just a cold. I make sure to bring tissues with me everywhere. I even skip the gym on Thursday, to let my body rest. Not that I actually rest, but still.  And then. . .Saturday I wake up with sinus pain and an ear ache and a fever.

As if the virus was sending me a message. . ."Bitch, you may be able to ignore a cold, but you can't ignore this!"  I also think I heard an evil, cackling laugh whenever I tried to get off the couch, but they have been from all the decongestants I was taking. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that this virus is evil and I'm pretty sure it tried to kill me.

It's now Wednesday night - I'm finally starting to feel better, if by better you mean not on the verge of tears from pain and exhaustion.

This is how excited I am about being coherent enough to post. 

Really, I shouldn't be surprised. There I was, being all good about exercising and posting and keeping up with laundry and BAM. Though I have caught up on every reality TV show I'm vaguely interested in, plus watched every episode of American Ninja Warrior.  

American Ninja Warrior is my new favorite sport. Although I'd probably have more luck playing football than being a Ninja Warrior. 

I may not truly be coherent enough to post. 

A Letter At The End of THE TRIP

Dear passengers on the flight from KCI to Newark last Wednesday night,

I am sorry about my son's tantrum. He hadn't had a chance to run around in days and he just wanted to get down. Also, his ears hurt because we kept circling. But contrary to what those two little bitches young women in front of me believed, the tears streaming down my face were not because my toddler kept head-butting me. And screaming. And kicking.

Tantrums don't make me cry. They really don't. But we had just spent ten days with my in-laws, conserving water and not having internet access and I just wanted to GO HOME. Instead, the plane was circling. But that wouldn't normally make me cry either. Even the horrible PMS I was having wouldn't make me cry in public.

It was (what felt like) the hot knives piercing my skull and the nausea and dizziness that undid me. I have been in pain like that before and I have been that (or even more) nauseous and dizzy before, of course. Like during the colonoscopy where the medieval sadist of a doctor wouldn't give me painkillers. But at least then I was not really in public, nor was I trying to control a screaming toddler, nor was I a survivor of ten days of stress, nor was I trying to continue a conversation with my three year old so that she wouldn't feel ignored.

I am hoping that most of you didn't even notice my tears. I didn't make any noise while I cried, after all. You may have noticed me snapping at Hubby, who had no idea what the hell was wrong with me and was embarrassed by my tears. (In his defense, I really couldn't explain - I was too terrified to talk, lest I throw up. He offered to change seats so he could hold Lovebug - airline policy only allowed the person in my seat to hold an infant - but I was so dizzy I was too terrified to stand up. Hubby had no way to help and no idea what was wrong with me. ) If so, don't worry about it. Generally we are quite happy with each other and normally we're a reasonably functional family.

Sincerely,

The lady with the puffy pink face in 11B