Of Illness

Mrr. I turn into a big baby when I have the flu and there's someone taking care of me. I went to Greg's on Saturday because we had an altercation and it needed resolved. I drove to his place at exactly the time he was driving to my place - we more than likely passed each other on the road, actually. He arrived back after eleven and by that point I was worried sick. I had done the calculations, allowing for travel and questioning Phipps about why I wasn't where I said I would be, and he was LATE. Anyway, I don't have cell reception in Scotsville, so I had no way of calling him to see where he was. (He had been frantically calling me, as had Phipps, because they didn't know where I was.)

He arrived, I was still frantic, he was frantic, and we essentially kissed and made up right there. (I hope every fight happens this way, minus the travel-time.) Anyway, I was well into flu-land by that point, so Greg bundled me up in blankets and hauled out his pharmacy of flu/cough/cold medicine while cooking me a nourishing omelette (it was nearly 1 am by this point). I slept fitfully all night, because I refused Nyquil. (That was a miscalculation.)

I spent all of Sunday in bed, because I was too dizzy to stand up without falling over (I tried) and did not go to church or rehearsal. Greg made me chicken noodle soup (with rice noodles, the way I like) and we spent all day watching "Weeds" and sleeping intermittently. (I slept a lot.) That night, I turned into the biggest whiniest baby in the world while Greg insisted on cough medicine and Nyquil. He persisted. They tasted icky. But I did sleep.

This week, I will be moving out of my apartment and into a different one. Thank God. That is all I shall say about that.

Darlin' Eileen

Life kind of sucks. See, there's this thing where I tried my very best to be not at all involved in the musical. I did. I did my very best. And then they needed dressers for the (multiple!) quick-changes. So I said, "Okay. I'll help. But only if you don't have enough people by tech week." And they didn't. That was cool. I can be a dresser. That's nice and low-maintenance and I don't have to be there every single night because I'm doing it out of the goodness of my heart.

And then everybody started getting sick. The plague began to spread through the theatre and everyone fell to it - everyone IN the show, that is. Techies are fine. One of the girls is so ill that she went to the ER last night with a temperature of 103.0. She has a speaking/named role. One that sings, too. And then I, in a brief moment of insanity, said, "What can I do to help you, Dr. Fran." And she said, "If you could give me a new lease on life, a strong mezzo-soprano, the remedy to the common cold, and more techs than the show currently possesses, you would make my life that much easier."

And then I said, "I have a mezzo for you, ma'am." She said, "Who?" I said, "Me, ma'am."

It was at that very moment that I realized I had finally lost my mind.

Not only that, I get to learn how to swing dance. In three days. With my ex, who is in the show and is not yet over me, because of the simple fact that I am with someone else and no longer at all interested in him.

Yeah. This is going to go GREAT.