Sick?

Well, the secretary who gets paid a lot more then I do is sitting at her cube reading a trashy love novel. Now I haven't seen the title of it, but there is a woman on the cover of it in a blue colonial dress that shows enough cleavage to make a holy man sin. Enough with the bitterness that usually comes with a Monday, what I really wanted to write about is my weekend battle with a virus.

Now I haven't been seriously sick in a span of two to three years. The last time I was sick may have been Senior year of college during the winter after finals. It was one of those two days, out of commission, fever type things. I've had my colds and sore throats, but nothing lasting longer then a few days. Maybe it's because I eat well, and exercise a lot, but maybe it's my fondness for a dark glass of whiskey, or a combination of everything.

This Saturday, however, yours truly got sick. during the day I felt fine, but then 2pm hit, and I felt like Sonny Liston after Muhammad Ali's knock out punch that no one saw. I had shivers, my head felt like it was going to give birth to Athena, and my stomach was doing its own macherena. What did I do? I tried to go out. It was suppose to be one of those blow out party nights where you wake up the next day wondering why you have a receipt for 3 Gatorades and microwavable Mama Celeste green pepper pizza in your hand from Rite Aid. Alas, I did the 10 minute walk to the Metro with the whole heated intention of getting on but, I walked in to the Giant supermarket instead. I bought all the drinks in the supermarket that was splashed with labels yelling ANTI-OXIDANT, VITAMINS, HEALTHY, etc...and Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia. Walked back home and proceeded to sleep for thirteen hours.

By noon the next day, I was fine. I helped a friend move, went to the mall, did laundry and weeded the garden. So was I really sick? Can I continue my streak and say 'I haven't been sick for so and so long' or does the streak count start over? I say no. It was simply a mere inconvenience. Although there was a half hour period during my inconvenience where I did want to be back in Boston, climb up the stairs to the master bedroom, knock on the door and tell my loving parents, "I feel sick." Such a baby.