On Saturday night I went to the last night of the Proms in Hyde Park for my great friend's leaving party. I came with a backpack full of beer and wine and snacks. I was completely unprepared for how bonkers it was going to become. As my neighbor explained it: it is an excuse for middle class people to get drunk together. Phew...no shit. I was actually approached by a lady on the tube on my way home who told me I needed to get it together - and that I was a mess.
Yeah, I could have told you that.
Needless to say I was a little worse for wear on Sunday, all my muscles ached, I ate McDonalds, I went to bed early...I was REALLY tired.
So in the middle of the night last night (Sunday) I woke up thinking I was going to puke...totally nausious. I should mention that I think I would rather saw off a digit than be nausious...it is the worst. So that teamed with the sore muscles which are a bit unexplained, except that the backpack was REALLY heavy, and I am not at all fit, was not a good combo. There wasn't alot of sleep going on...just me rolling around trying not to wake up Alex and feeling sorry for myself and then having short really intense dreams that left me sweating and trying to remember what was real. So - good fun, really.
And then when it was finally time to get up, about 2 minutes later, I was properly ill. Like thought I had the flu, and could only sip ginger ale (thank the good Lord for Ginger Ale) and couldn't think strait. I called in sick and then helped get he kids ready-ish. Really I just barked some orders in their general direction: eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, go to school...so helpul, I know.
So I go back to bed and Alex is working from home and I finally get up around 3 and he says with love only I can hear: You know, if you hadn't drunk so much, then your immune system wouldn't be weakened. That's why your sick. It's probably just a 24 hour thing.
And then he left.
Almost like a big hug, really.
