Verbose Derailment

This weekend I’m supposed to be going on a little “getaway” with some girls from my bookclub. Oh goodness. I called them girls. We are definitely not girls, so I suppose my age is showing. When I start calling them gals (like my mom) we’ll all know that I’ve passed the summit and rounding down the other side of the hill. At any rate, me and the ladies from book club, about half of the club, are traveling off a couple hours away to stay over a night. We’re all pretty cheap, so we’re staying at a father’s house of one of the members. He’s gone, so it’s not creepy or anything. It’s a small town, and there’s really no reason we’d be traveling there besides simply wanting to GET AWAY and have some girl time.

I don’t even know what it will all entail, to be honest. I know there will be wine, and I know a karaoke machine is coming along. I know I will be sleeping on my air-mattress (which I love).

I also know that, as Murphy’s Law would have it, yesterday I started to feel like crap.

It came on at work, really, and thank goodness my boss is out of town for a couple of days or she would have drug-tested me for sure. But I was sitting at my desk, head on my hand and my eyes started rolling back in my head. At least I felt like they were. And then I my nose kind of made that scuffy, lazy snort sound that it makes when you’re just about to fall asleep, your breath is getting deep and you’re, like, mentally tucking yourself into bed.

I swear I hibernated for ten seconds without knowing it.

My lids closed, and I’m thinking, If I let myself go, I could SO totally fall asleep right now, right here, baby. It was a battle of the wills to decide which was worse, staying awake and feeling like I was nodding off, or giving in to the sick curiosity. Because I was curious. Could I really, seriously fall asleep? Right there on my hand? At my desk? At work? My head faced away from the door, so maybe nobody would notice. But then, what if I really went hard and started snoring, drooling, and grinding my teeth like I do at home? And what if someone came to the door and I didn’t realize it? Worse yet, what if I realized it and thought I was acting all normal, but my eyes were red, my face blotchy where my hand had been, and they secretly held in their heart witness that I snore so loudly you can hear it down the hall with the door closed?

So, no. I shook my head and said “no” out loud to make sure I knew that I was going to tough it out. Popped a few candies from my jar, got up and walked around a little. And felt some gurgling in my tummy.


Last night wasn’t much better. I made dinner, and ate with the family (I find it best to act normal when sick), but then I made the couch my own and didn’t move from it. Our friends stopped by and asked if we wanted to walk down to the bowling alley for some munchies and beer– something I’d normally all over like monkeys picking back-bugs, but I surrendered to my physical suffering. Frank went on ahead with the twins and Lootie, and I brushed my teeth, put in my mouth guard (I wasn’t kidding about the teeth grinding thing), grabbed my latest Netflix and headed off to my bed with the dog.

I’ma tell you right now, if you are already suffering a physical ailment, the movie Cop Out will not make it any better. Although it works almost as good as Nyquil in putting you to sleep, if you can get over the anger in realizing that you actually paid to rent the DVD (and to think, I wanted to see it in the theatre!). I had high hopes, but it was all formula. Bruce Willis doesn’t even try to act, since he’s done just about every scene already once if not thrice in other cop movies. Cop argues with goofy sidekick partner. Cop botches bust. Cops have to give up badge. Cop has bad home life situation. Cop is a victim of wrong-doing. Cop takes vengeance into his own hands. Bla-bla-bla.

Verbose derailment. Story of my life!

My point is, I felt icky. I awoke feeling icky, and late for work. Showering didn’t help, save for the steamy seclusion notifying me to the condition my sinuses (full) and they were going to erupt. I had all but surrendered to the fact that I probably wasn’t going on the girls getaway. I emailed the hostess to give her a heads up. I whined to my husband. I began to hand out invitations to my pity party. I went to work, stopping to get a FREE FRIDAY COFFEE from Burger King (free small coffee, no purchase required, through the month of November). I threw in a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit since I had forgotten to eat breakfast.

I went to work. I slowly started to feel a bit better. No runs to the ladies room, no curling under my desk to catnap. A little spacey, a little dizzy, but nothing a couple glasses of wine and some mean karaoke can’t cure I hope! We’ll see. Pictures forthcoming. Maybe.

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