I am really struggling this week.
I think it all started Sunday morning when I went outside with wet hair. I was out of town, visiting my friend Bling when I went outside to play with her little boy. I had just taken a shower and hastily gotten dressed, and Bling's son was chomping at the bit to show me his trampoline.
I threw on my coat and hesitantly went out, knowing full well it was too cool to spend more than a few minutes in the breeze with my damp mess of a mop.
A couple days later I was boiling hot water, trying to fuel up on a enough tea to make my "cold" go away.
It's funny, now that I look back on that morning in question with the wet hair. The whole time I could hear my mother's voice in my head "Don't go outside with your wet hair, Kate. Put a hat on!"
Yesterday was the height of my physical battle with the germs that had infested my system. I woke up to go to work early Thursday morning with a temperature of 101. I couldn't even pay attention to the fleeting thought I had about calling in sick. I was scheduled for double duty: my 7 am newscast and a hit on the noon show, so calling in sick wasn't an option.
It took me about 45 minutes just to change my close as I got ready for work. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, hearing sounds like as if my head were under water. Congested, achy, sweaty and raw all at once, I think I was what you would call The Walking Wounded. If you could call it walking. I think I did more staggering around my airport, cracking my mouth open to brush my teeth. The cold water felt so good in my mouth, since the rest of me was just boiling with some kind of fever.
Now, I'm pretty old school when it comes to drugs. It's something that comes from my mom. I don't like to really take meds, even the over-the-counter type, even when I know full well those little pills could do me a world of good. Reluctantly, I've been juicing up with a combo of Day-Quil and Ni-Quil, with a few ibuprofin pills thrown in for good measure. Yesterday though, I was too exhausted to even make it out of bed to go to the bathroom for a round of drugs.
Oh. That's another thing I hate about being sick: When you spend hours upon hours in bed because you're too damn tired or exhausted to do anything else, and yet you can't even get a wink of sleep.
Being forced to lay in bed all day and watch Judge Judy surely must be one of Dante's rings of hell.
Anyway. That's why I've been MIA. Working a lot and too exhausted to chronicle anything mildly interesting in my life. Fortunately, I think things are on the upswing... just in time for the weekend.