Friday, last week. Started the day poorly, and it only got worse, by the time I let off work I knew I was in trouble. Thought I could sleep it off, no, it was hunkered in.
All week, fever, chills, exhaustion, cough, runny nose, phlegm, yellow, green, white, sleeping 16, 18 hours a day....
Wake up, dizzy, exhausted, by the time I finish my first cup of coffee. Then back to bed.
All week. I'd bought a treat at the Co-Op, sausages, Duck ala'Orange, I Iove duck, what could go wrong?
Whatever could, did, these met no expectations.
For the rest of the week, nothing but soup and lots of juice and tea. I call in sick to work for a day. It's been 40 years since I've called in sick, anywhere, and this isn't the worst I've been, but damn, I just can't do it.
Those shifts I show up for, still exhausted, way too tired.
Yesterday, morning, I go for breakfast. I have to eat, at least once this week. At the old hotel, their breakfast restaurant, the Hotel that promises to deliver a much better experience than in fact it ever does. Eggs Benny. And they arrive, only, they're like some 8th grader on his way to shop class got lost in a home-economics class and turned this in as his day-end project. are these eggs? really? push them around with your fork...maybe, scrambled? boiled? from a paste? powder? and where's the hollandaise sauce? round-cut hams peeled right from the plastic, crunchy-plastic english muffin (rinse and reuse?), hashbrowns overcooked and salted, more an inedible garnish than a side. I rarely enjoyed breakfast before, this fuckery confirms why.
I say nothing, push it around my plate, annoyed that this fuckery is allowed to pass for cooking, then home, nap, work.
***
Today, off to get some groceries. A few. Then back home, then out to eat a big lunch. And I eat it, then a long nap, and then up - now up, and I'm suspecting, given my appetite, that I may be on the mend, but no overdoing it now, watch a movie, relax, and we'll see on the morrow...