As I slowly woke from my afternoon nap, I realized that my legs were dripping sweat. And as someone who avoids all rigorous activity, it's weird in my world when my legs sweat. The last time my calves were this wet, I was fooling myself into thinking I could do bikram yoga. Soaking wet, my pajama bottoms were clinging to me and my shirt was plastered as a second skin. My hair clung to the back of my neck. I think all this means my fever has broken. Spiking at 102.6 this morning, I am now, thanks to my damp sheets, at a cool 101.9 and I think it can only lower from here. In the meantime, I'm going to take yet another bath, pretend to eat, and go back to bed.
You know what the worst part is, other than the fatigue? This lackluster inability to do ANYthing. I look around my room from the vantage point of my bed, and I think, 'I should hang up the clothes on the back of the couch. And pick up the dust bunnies attacking the cords under the computer. Oh, and vacuum up all that dirt I spilled on my floor when I was indoor gardenening.' But I got nothin', people. NOTHIN'.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've been out of bed for a record fifteen minutes and everything in me is screaming to get back in.
I hope to post again soon. Kisses.
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1 comment:
my long lost roomie, how are you? your blog makes me miss san francisco. i don't know if i am cut out to be a chicagoan. we'll see.
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