Yesterday was “International Women’s Day”, so of course I made a snarky comment about celebrating in the kitchen. I don’t believe in God, or karma, or any of those things, but I woke up today feeling like a pile of poop threw up another pile of poop. I think Gloria Alred put a curse on me. I got about 3 hours of sleep total. It was awful, especially since I was laying next to my boyfriend who seemed to be having the best sleep of his life. I’m pretty sure he smiled at one point. I was miserable.
Being the independent woman I am, I woke up and dragged myself into the shower (read: I have to go to work because I don’t have a sugar daddy). Every 20 seconds or so, I had that gun-to-your-head decision: puke or poop? Absolutely awful. Somehow, I managed to get out of the house and into work. As soon as I stepped in, my coworker literally said, “Yikes. You look like you’re still asleep.” That just translates into, “You look like garbage.” Awesome.
If feeling sick wasn’t bad enough, it’s Monday, my department was just upgraded to Office 13, I have about 30 emails from 7am for varying crisises. I debated throwing my hands up, yelling “Yolo!” and walking out, but then I realized that I don’t want to go out sounding like a bro dude. So I just put my head down and worked.
Four o’clock came and I made my way out as fast as possible, which was in fact not fast at all. I did, however, drive home like a champ. I tried to psych myself out of being sick. I knew that when I got home, my boyfriend would be picking his son up to stay for the week. As soon as I walked in, I collapsed on the couch. My boyfriend realized quickly I wasn’t going to be going with him to pick up his son. I just buried myself in pillows and wanted to sleep.
While he was gone, I got a horrible case of the chills. I thought, “a shower would make it better!” Well…if you can get the shower to work. OF COURSE, as I turn it on, there’s no water pressure. I pathetically got redressed and felt like crying.
Shortly after, in walks my two favorite guys in the world. I tell him my shower horror story. He goes in the bathroom, investigates and determines its the shower head (and idiot user). I can hear the water still running and he tells me he’s making me a bath. Then, that sweet little boy comes over to me on the couch and says:
“Hi Marie. I brought you a kiss because you’re sick.”
*hands me a Hershey’s kiss*
“Thank you so much, baby! That’s really sweet.”
“You’re welcome. Here’s another one.
Then, “Marie? I really like you.”
Those who know me know this: I have a sort of tough-ish exterior, but am actually just a pile of feelings. MAN OH MAN, did that get me. Right in the heart. I mean, almost instant waterworks.
Not only did I have a sweetheart of a boyfriend come in and take care of me (he also made me soup), but I had his sweetheart kid just melt my heart.
It didn’t stop there. Before he went to bed, he came out to tell me goodnight. I swear, he’s trying to see if he can break me at this point.
I might be feeling like crap, laying on the couch and being generally useless, but feeling like crap has never felt so good.