In which I try to use reason and logic

Whenever I get sick [and that is fairly often - spending time with toddlers and infants coupled with the fact that i have real asshole of an immune system just simply does not work out in my favor] I usually try to deny that I am getting sick. I can feel the signs of sickness entering my body, and I chalk it up to the temperature change, the arrival of my period, stress, not sleeping enough, sleeping too much, eating junk food, not exercising, not keeping up with yoga....I have a laundry list of "reasons I feel like shit." Except - I have contracted some type of virus or infection from the germballs better known as the children that I watch.

I am afraid that although many of the excuses listed above have been used to explain my recent complaint of "feeling icky," that I am, in fact, sick. Yesterday, I spent the entire day in bed, only leaving to get up to eat an orange and to fill my glass of water. Sometimes to pee. Never left the house...but judging by the freezing rain that fell most of the morning, I wasn't missing much.

Today, I woke up feeling like a new woman. Cured! I thought as I showered, dried my hair and put on makeup, preparing to go out and greet the sunshine with a smirk. HA - I am not "sick" world, I was just resting after a week of stress and sleeplessness. I enjoyed the afternoon without feeling too terrible until I began to drive home - and that's when it hit. The achying, the sore muscles, the headache, the chills. I ate some dinner, thinking, again - I'm not sick. Just hungry. Food and water. That'll cure me.

Then crawled back into bed. And then, around 7:45 PM (eastern standard time), it hit me.

I. am. sick.

I actually probably have 1. a fever 2.a stomach thing 3.a sinus thing

I call my best friend, in town only until tomorrow. We are both "sick" actually - she with a throat thing. She's been sucking down vitamin c drops and spraying her throat with chloraseptic, which usually just numbs the hell out of the back of your tongue, leaving you unable to properly handle saliva. She seems to be doing ok with it, though she sounds like a boy on the verge of puberty. (Sorry babe.)

We are supposed to go out tonight, to celebrate a birthday and listen to drunk people attempt to recreate hits of the 80s and 90s from artists that we all know and love [especially when we are intoxicated] such as Journey, Jimmy Buffet and Belinda Carlisle.

But, once the reality of sick hit me, the idea of drinking six, seven, eight beers or glasses of wine seemed like a really terrible idea. Even if getting absolutely sloshed right now would be wonderful - I doubt I'd feel that way tomorrow when trying to fight off a hangover AND this illness.

Of course, I could just blame feeling crappy on drinking too much. Then I wouldn't have to actually BE sick.