Ten day swing in Chicago. I'm sorry, what?
Pic courtesy Monty Montgomery.
The weather in Chicago has been wackadoo lately. A week ago I had the crazy person layered look going on (when you have so many layers on it makes you look slightly unhinged and fragile), early this week my coat was all unzipped and I was fanning my damp self on the train, and today we are back to chilly billy.
There is loads of talk about barometric pressure (something I always blame zits and a bad hair day on) and jokes about how Mother Nature is bipolar (can you imagine if there WAS a Mother Nature and she WAS bipolar? We'd be fucked).
I'm keeping quiet because a. it's annoying to talk about the weather to anyone but strangers during awkward conversations and b. I'm terrified that though I've dodged the flu bullet thus far, the other germ filled shoe will drop and, by dropping, spew out germs all over my face and make me sick.
Wait. AM I terrified? Actually, no. I'm disappointed that I haven't gotten sick. And hopeful that I will.
Because it's actually kind of, just a little bit, awesome to get sick. No fake calling in sick to work because you can't face another day of whatever job you do that destroys your soul. When you're Sick with a capital S, you get to boldly call your boss and hack into the phone and then fall back into a guiltless, paranoid free fevered slumber.
Significant others stroke your brow and bring you ice cream! You can make yourself a little sick bay nest on the couch and do NOTHING ELSE but watch a marathon of anything you want. No one can judge you. No one can look at you the next day and say "Well, you sure got better fast." Because you DON'T get better fast. Cause you are sick as shit, people.
And when you start to feel better and you have your first solid meal or you can go for a feeble but energizing walk around the block after being in bed for two days? That food tastes like magic and that walk makes you feel like a super hero.
Today I had a banana and a multi-vitamin (gummy, obvs), chugged a Nantucket Nectar - the only good juice on the market - and washed my hands every time I went to the ladies. Maybe I'll skip a hand washing tomorrow, or forgo the juice and live a little by being bedridden with a 100 degree temp.
Me, if I'm lucky.
