Psychosomatic, Part 2

I have the stomach flu. I went to Goddard Health Center – you gotta love health insurance that makes you start your journey to wellness at STUDENT HEALTH – and a doctor who was MY AGE asked me a ton of questions, felt me up, and informed me that, yes, I have the stomach flu.

Brian is out of town all this week. He’s going to be in Maine, and then he’s flying to California. He will get back on Friday. So, you know – GREAT TIME TO GET SICK.

I’m going to try to feel better by tonight, because I’m really looking forward to handing out candy, and yet I don’t want to spread stomach flu to all the neighborhood kids. And I REALLY want to dress up as Jerri Blank. We’ll just see how I feel. 

Psychosomatic?

I got to my car today only to discover that all of my tax decals had been ripped off my license plate. For you non-Oklahoma residents – here in the Land of the Sweeping Wind we pay tax on our cars yearly, and they give us tiny little thumb-sized decals to put on our license plates. Without one you are subject to getting stopped by a police officer at any time and given a ticket. Today – or more likely, sometime either last night or last week – all of mine were torn from my car.

Shouldn’t be a problem – I can just go to the tag office and ask them for another one. But it’s irritating as hell.

Last night I was so dreading coming to OU today that I started to feel all weepy and sad. Today, I feel completely sick to my stomach, feverish, ready to hurl. I can’t help but think that it’s stress, but I am totally unsure as to what to do about it.

I Must Remember…

My good friend Liz has been in town this week. I haven’t been able to see her, as she is the maid of honor in a wedding, and that is worse than having a full-time job and two highly colicky, crack addicted babies. Today, however, I managed to finagle a lunch party of sorts, with Liz, and our friends Adam, Todd, Laurie, and Jaye. We met at my favorite restaurant, and they are some of my favorite people, and the whole thing was so oddly perfect as to leave me grinning like an idiot for most of the meal.

Liz and I like to joke around with each other. She is highly animated and sometimes lacks an inside voice, and we often come to blows. Not actual blows meant to hurt, mind you – friendly, playful abuse. We came to that today in the restaurant, and I sure did sprain my thumb punching her too hard. I socked her in the side – gently – and heard and felt a pop, and a tear, and now my entire left hand is an a great deal of pain. I am fairly certain it’s not broken, as I have a range of motion that is inconsistent with a fracture, but GOD DAMMIT it hurts.

I really must remember to stop punching my friends. Even when they ask for it. Right, Julian? 

Older Posts

www.flickr.com