It's official. I've been sick for a week, now. I got a flu shot this year, and I'm not even quite sure that this is the flu, but it's awful. I move like molasses and think at the same speed. I've only gone to the gym maybe twice the whole week and decided to deem myself a "gym loris" instead of "gym rat" or "gym mouse" or "gym rabbit", as Dan sometimes refers to me. I'm skipping it again today.
My fingers even type slower, and all of my joints ache. Even each individual knuckle in my digits, my elbows, knees and hips.
So while I wanted to write a nice Valentine's Day post about the beautiful Valentine's Day flowers my daddy had sent to my work, Dan and I's dinner, my new dress and tights (Marshall's - Dress $12, Givenchy tights $6), the couple's massage that is yet to be scheduled and the tattoo gift certificate that has Dan's mind contemplating what his next piece of permanent artwork will be, it will have to wait, or may be just a memory for myself and not the internets.
I've somehow managed to schedule a casting session, make casting selects and coordinate a shoot in 2 days. We'll see how the editing goes. Hopefully as quickly, or we won't meet our deadline. Shoot is Friday, and if I'm not well by then, we will have some serious problems.
I can't edit or animate like a slow loris. It's unacceptable in this situation. And while I'd say I would take the entire weekend to lay around and rest up for the upcoming (crammed) work week, I can't. Dan has packed it full of social plans, which I am usually yearning for.
I have fallen asleep after dinner on the couch each night this week. It's a combination of my illness and the new heating blanket Dan got us that lands me in an instant coma as soon as it's switched on and turned up above the "6" setting. (Mental note: I should change the words to "Instant Karma" to "Instant Coma" before I drift off next time...) I never nap, so this is definitely my body telling me something is up.
|V-Day Flowers from Daddy|
I'm attempting to reach out to a new specialist up here, but I don't know if I'd feel comfortable going to someone new to do my next surgery (which is seemingly inevitable). I just wish I could scrape it all out and be done with it. Last night I was saying, "I'll just take em out, and I'm sure SOMEBODY..." then I stopped. "Nevermind. No one would want those bunk ass ovaries and uterus." Defective. That's how I feel. Not in the "ohhh, I'm broken" type of sense, but in the "who needs em'?" type of sense. I'm just tired of having to take meds ALL THE TIME.
Anyhoo, that's what's new. I will be writing a NY Fashion Week post in the near future as soon as my fingers hurt less. This year has been unlike any other since I actually got to experience a lot of it from the comfort of my own apartment (or office...). It was truly amazing and has changed my life and inspired me beyond words. I'll attempt to explain with words in my next post.