April 22, 2005
Turban-Head
Yeah, so, no post on Wednesday cuz I was sick.
At least, I think I was sick. I wasn't praying for death's sweet release. It was just kind of a 24-hour malaria or something.
I got outta bed in the morning and was so dizzy, I almost did a header into the dresser, saved only by my cat-like reflexes (read: flailing arms). And I thought, "Huh. That's not good."
But assuming it was just a getting-outta-bed-too-fast thing, I went on to take a shower. And, like most showers, this one included closing one's eyes so as not to get shampoo in them. Bad idea, people. Thank God there's a window with a ledge in there, or I'd be writing this post while dead.
And that was the point at which I decided that I should not drive to work. Or do anything else but crawl back into bed, wet, naked and pathetic, with a towel still wrapped turban-style around my head.
I slept like that for three hours, wet hair still in a turban. But when I woke up, the turban had come off, so I was just sleeping on wet hair. Which would normally plunge me into hypothermia, but I wasn't cold at all. In fact, even with the window open and the fan going, I was sweating.
Now, let me explain something about my lizard-like body temperature. If I'm doing any physical activity whatsoever, I'm sweating my ass off. (Oh how sad -- I can see your lurid fantasies of me whithering and dying.) But when I'm not moving, then I'm cold. Even in August. My fingers are white with cold right now. I need to go climb onto a warm rock and sun myself.
So to be sedentary with wet hair and sweating was pretty alarming. And I thought, "Huh. That's not good, either."
And when I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and realized I didn't want to eat anything, I knew I was dying because me losing my appetite is totally one of the signs of the Apocolypse. Right after the rivers turning to blood, I'm pretty sure.
So I had a slice of bread and a big glass of water and read 100 pages of my book, while sitting in the living room in a t-shirt with the front door open. It was bliss, as the temperature outside fell from 80 to 50. Fifty degrees -- FINALLY, a temperature at which I could stop sweating!
But eventually, the turning of pages and holding my head upright made me weary, and I crawled back into bed -- sans turban -- for the majority of the afternoon.
But the real bummer of the day was that I had to miss Heather's Mom's birthday party. I missed shredded beef and Morningfield's birthday cake!!! And you, dear readers, had to miss my recap of Heather's deranged family gathering. I'm so sorry I let you down!
It was between 7:00 and 8:00 (sometime during America's Next Top Model) that I realized I was no longer sweating, and also? HORRIBLY FAMISHED, since I'd had naught but the prison diet all day. Thus my fever had broken, the dizziness was gone, and all was right with the world.
Weird.
And the first thing I thought was, "I wonder if it's too late to go over to Heather's for cake...?"
Because, seriously -- FIVE LAYERS OF FROSTING!
But then I remembered that, since removing the turban from my head, I hadn't even waved a comb near my hair, and did I really want to open myself up to that level of mockery from Heather's Brother?
No. No, I did not. Not even for cake.