Okay, I wasn’t deathly ill, but I was stuck in bed from Monday afternoon until Sunday morning. Symptoms? Achy, coughing, weak, and just generally feeling like shit. Today I actually wore something other than pajamas for the first time in almost a week, and it feels really good.
I missed many days of copyediting, a friend’s reading, a chance to sub and make some money, my hip-hop class, and a friend’s birthday bash. But I saw all ten episodes of the TV series American Crime in two days, and all available episodes of You, Me, and the Apocalypse. My original plan was to finally watch Season 3 of The Wire, which everyone else saw, like a dozen years ago, but for some reason HBO/Go wasn’t cooperating. I also played a ridiculous number of games on my phone, including one that I’m inexplicably addicted to called Trouble Brewing. I am now able to virtually brew 42 coffee drinks of varying stripes in two minutes. Don’t ask me what this skill is preparing me for. I suppose it’s more practical than Angry Birds…
Anyway, I am so happy that I’m now well enough to go out into the world. I celebrated by going to Safeway for groceries. I swear the checkers looked older than when I saw them last.
Since it wasn’t a stomach bug, I probably gained five pounds because (1) my activity level was non-existent, and (2) I ate three chicken pot pies, one of which was Marie Callender’s. I actually looked it up, and it’s 16 points in the Weight Watchers universe. For those of you who are familiar with these points, be forewarned. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, be thankful.
The one productive thing I was able to do with a low-grade fever was write my 10-minute play submission for March, which feels more like fun to me. If it gets selected for production, I may have a new working model for my writing time.