A Little Too Much
I am really sick.
I was ignoring it during the week, but I really realized, today, that I'm really sick. Chest pain, throat pain, lots of weakness and really badly clogged lungs. It's bronchitis with revenge for the time that I didn't take last week when I was too busy with Fezzik and work all built in.
I slept twelve hours and I'm still exhausted.
John made breakfast from the last of the white bread, and made French Toast. I could only eat one slice, just wasn't that hungry. I puttered around the house today. I made and baked some whole wheat bread, sat around watching TV and hugging Fezzik, and actually got the last two days written as well, with Fezzik lying in the office with me. Sat around and watched the snow fall.
After a nearly eighty degree day yesterday it's snowing today. Crazy Colorado weather. The wind howled all night and brought in thorough cover today along with a cold front from up north and now there's about three inches of wet, soggy snow all over. It was a veritable blizzard at one point, fat white flakes filling the air. Fezzik happily went out in it, got covered with rain and snow and wet and usually shook off before tracking snow and mud into the house. At least he's happy and active. He's actually doing really well today.
John gave him his medication in the morning, and he's taken to it just fine. None of the side effects that they warned us about, so he seems to be taking well to the second of the five drugs they'll be using. A good thing.
I was stupid, though, and didn't sleep during the day, which would probably have helped a little more; but I just wasn't that sleepy and really wanted to be able to sleep tonight as well. So I puttered around in long underwear, wool socks, and extra layers of vests on top of a shirt. Sat and watched a lot of TV, as my brain wouldn't take hold of the novel stuff, and I finally forced a few backstories, but it hurt some to do it. Made me really wonder, hard, if cyberpunk is at all the way to go, but there's more that I can do, I think. Anime and spiritualism and dreams.
Made dinner even. Around six, as I was hungry as we didn't have lunch, I sauteed onions and mushrooms and then added bread crumb and spaghetti sauce and chopped sun dried tomatoes and a bunch of seasonings, then pulled out the gradually browning ground beef from last week and put most of it in as well. Froze about a pound of it hopefully, we'll see if it's good still. The meatloaf went into the oven along with a tray of frozen creamed spinach that was made by Boston Market and is in our frozen sections at Safeway, and then John ran off to Radio Shack to get cords for the Big TV while it all baked.
He'd actually spent the whole day putting together a huge shelf set downstairs. It's a set of shelves for those big, clear containers you find for like $5 at Eagle or Home Depot. It can hold fifty of the puppies and they're all pretty big to start, but we've taken to storing all of John's brewing supplies, my fiber art materials, my regular art stuff, John's stained glass, and all those kinds of things in those cartons and they all fit on those shelves. So we have huge storage for a really large amount of stuff. A ridiculously large amount of stuff. The shelves are really solid, and John is really sore from all the lifting he had to do.
Dinner turned out good. By the time he'd gotten back and showered, the food was done. I was taking no chances with the ground beef and I wanted it thoroughly cooked through. And it was very done and good by the time he got finished with stuff, and we sat down and ate meatloaf with spinach and bread. Filling and good.
Then I popped caramel popcorn and brought it down with me. John popped his own popcorn and the two of us curled up in the pappasan downstairs with a big, wool blanket over us and watched The Thirteenth Warrior happily. Geoff had shown me a really cool site that had an interesting set of translations of Viking sayings from a particular saga that really were cool to read and think about. The neat thing about the movie was the way it portrayed Viking ways and thoughts and strategies, there's something about a warrior race that appeals, especially since their vision of Heaven was a place of feasting and battle every day where you could fight and fight and always come back whole again. And, in the end, you were there to fight the final Battle for the Gods as well. To serve and have purpose and to fight the good fight, defend the weak and needy, with all your skill and prowess and strength.
Not a bad way to live.
I went to bed, realized I'd probably overdone it when I felt like doing nothing more but crying and curling up in a shivering ball. Stupid me. I have to take it even easier tomorrow, I guess.