Ah, the winter cold...

Finally, an excuse to behave as poorly as I dreamed of.  I am justified in showing late to work, sitting in front of my screen and drooling, taking copious amounts of sedatives, eating salty junk food 'cause it's the only thing I can taste and sleeping for 12 hour stretches.  Not only is this behavior forgivable, it's good for me!  So, other than feeling like shit, this is great!

The double whamy

I got a cold, or quite possibly the flu, and my period. Since I can't breathe without my mouth open I keep waking up with drool on my face, which means the majority of my orifices are leaking at this point.
I've been banished to the bedroom with my cold pills and heating pads. And my niffy new netbook along with my jerry rigged wireless so I'll manage somehow.

I think I might be a zombie

I've been really sick for this past few days, so sick I'm concerned that I might have died and am now sitting at my desk as a member of the living dead.  It could be worse, zombie are very chic now for some reason... I guess that the rest of the world has caught on with the campy goodness that combines so well with the terrifying idea of a tireless predator that can't feel pain.  
Anyway, I'm one of those now, but more in the style of Night of the Living Dorks rather than Resident Evil.


Moving on, I've had the stomach flu, or possibly food poisoning, I'm not terribly sure which.  For two days I ate nothing and still managed to throw up.  I know, I amaze myself too.  

The mystery rash is back!

I'm so itchy.  I can now say that I truly empathize with my mother's dog.  So, my rash is a stress related occurrence, and thanks to some breakthroughs in therapy, which include acknowledging the various walls continue run into like a lunatic in an asylum ( yes my mental walls are padded), the rash is back.  Actually this coincides with breakthroughs in M's therapy, the stress level has been through the roof.  Both of us are happy, then sad, then angry, then content, then happy, etc.  Every repressed emotion is being dredged up, and we are always together, so we both get to bear the brunt of each other's... therapeutic breakdowns.  We get to be there for the  rebuilding, too.  It's very strange, not in a bad way, to watch someone's reality change.   Not in the sociopath kind of way, but that a lot of bad things lose their power over in another's life.  You can almost see it slip away...
But, in the grand scheme of things, is good mental health really worth a having an itchy rash for a few days?  

Waiting room of horrors

Usually the only other person who shows up at my doctor's waiting room.  We both follow waiting room etiquette and ignore each other.  Well he didn't show, a new patient did.  Apparently my answering her question about which button to press was an invitation for her to tell me her life story.  The most entertaining part for me was her assumption that people who go to therapy go because they have either a substance abuse problem or a "domestic situation."  It was really strange to be talking to another patient who was making such assumptions, that mental health is limited to addiction and as a companion to 12 step programs.  She told my three, no wait, four, different programs she was currently involved with.  She invited me to come along.
I was debating if I should tell her I was there to deal with anxiety/depression issues.  A part of me felt that it's none of her  business and she should know better than to ask, another part  didn't want to say anything because I was worried she have the "well, that's not such a big deal reaction."  Shameful, I know, I'll talk to my therapist about it.  She also asked what traumatic, life changing event made me decide to go to therapy. There really isn't one, it's more that I finally got decent insurance that actually lets me see a good doctor.
Anyway, I was so happy when her doctor called her in.  The worst part is that I had picked up the March issue of Details and wanted to read the damn thing.  They written a profile about the blond pony-tailed guy who sale bizarre exercise equipment.  I guess it'll be waiting for me week...*sigh*

How did I feel over the weekend?

Sick, again!

Yes I'm sick again.  Not the lady (read bloody, bloody period) kind of sick, but sore throat, stuffy and running at the same time nose, fever-y kind of sick.  For the entire weekend, and Monday too (I had too miss work), I wore the same nightgown and had fever induced nightmares.  Which leads me to the heart of this post, zombies.
Yes, I've become lax in zombie preparedness,  so now I've gone back to having nightmares about them.  Sure it could be the non-stop horror movie fest I indulged in over the weekend, but I prefer to think that it's my subconscious reminding me that I need to prep for the inevitable.

Itchy mystery rash

After having visited my in-laws, and genetic family, and staying the night in a hotel, I now have a itchy mystery rash. I've only had this happen when I eat shrimp or when I have a lot of stress. Well, I didn't eat shrimp, or any of their shellfish friends, and the stress is over with, so I don't what's wrong with me. If it doesn't go away by the end of the day tomorrow, M will force me to go to urgent care so she doesn't have to lie beside my pox ridden body.

Speaking of pox, I had to buy anti-itch cream. I bought Cortizone 10 with healing aloe, and read the box as we wandered through the store. Under the directions section it states, " ...for external anal and genital itching...". I had no idea that it had this kind of application (ha ha). At first I though I would walk of the store with my head held high, knowing that people will think well of me and my vermin related hygiene issues, but I was confronted with the shame of people thinking I going to barely make it to the car and start frantically rubbing this cream on my anus. Oh the shame of it all...

BTW the slogan on the box is "Feel the Heal."