So that was the fourth day of being SERIOUSLY ill. Earlier today my answer to people who (phoned and) asked me how I was doing, was "There are not enough gradiations in feeling like shit to get any idea if I'm feeling better or worse.."
And it was the honest truth: I couldn't tell if I felt shittier or less shitty. All I knew was I still felt down and out, helpless, hopeless, and getting somewhat worried, too, because I can't recall the last time I was THIS ill. And even more so considering it's been four days already ! (Six if you count the 'coughing and slightly starting to feel ill' phase)
But this evening, as I made a deliberate effort NOT to be deep asleep around the time Viktor came home, just to have someone to talk to, he was being an asshole, pretty much. Or rather, he cut down every attempt at a conversation short with a kind of arrogance. It pissed me off, even more so because it seemed to convey a feeling on his side that I'm having FUN staying in. Yes, HELLO ? I enjoy coughing up my longues, I enjoy not being able to think straight, I enjoy not even being able to handle the simplest tasks like getting down the stairs without extra concentration. OBVIOUSLY !! And a workaholic like me obviously ENJOYS not being at work and making himself useful, or being able to work on his comics. Yeah, good bet, Einstein. Truth is, I'm sick, towards delirious, lonely as hell (haven't seen a soul outside the cats or Vik since Monday afternoon - well, I saw a few anonymous people on my O.J.-run on Tuesday, but I was kind of too out of it to notice) and bored out of my wits inside this house !
So later that evening, I had had it. Laura, a friend, had invited me to her concert and I knew several other friends would be there, so against better judgement, I went (and don't worry, I dressed warmly - VERY warmly). And you know what ? For those few hours I was in that place, surrounded by people, drinking a few cups of hot tea, listening to mostly pretty good music, I felt a whole lot better.
Then, of course, came the ten minutes wait for the last bus home and by the time I was through the front door, I felt like crap again. But still - I'd say give me a few more days of rest (and minimal exposure to the likes of Vik when he's the very opposite of friendly like this) and I might just recover by the weekend.
Speaking of the weekend.. it'll be Carnaval here. Big thing, and I hate it. So the past years the Cul de Sac's been my refuge from this madness, but as Laura told me, apparently come Sunday (the 22nd, the official start of Carnaval) the bar's shutting down for nearly a week. They're rebuilding a large section of the place, and hope to have it ready by Thursday again. But just to let anyone reading this who happens to go to the Cul de Sac sometimes, know, it'll be closed for a while.
Ok... now I'm exhausted to top everything off. I think I'll crawl into bed and see if tomorrow brings any identifiable improvements.
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