Here it is the 15th of January of the new year and this is my first post of the year. It'd be nice to be able to use the excuse that I've been busy, but that is the exact opposite of what really happened. Sick is more like it.
It all started last year. Near the end of December I thought I was coming down with a slight cold. I had the sniffles and a slight cough, but nothing that I thought that I should be worried about.
My New Years Eve plans were to go to Porland, Maine to see Strangefolk at the State Theatre. I was very excited about the show and counted down the hours until I left. I drove to Portland by myself, kept company by Keller Williams and Strangefolk in my CD player.
The show was incredible, a review would be a post in itself. I warmed myself at the show with probably four or so drinks, the beginning of what probably didn't help my situation in the weeks to come. Afterwards, the party didn't stop. I spent a good portion of the night and the next morning with Strangefolk's bassist, Erik Glocker and our friend Jim Beam. I don't know how much I drank, no one was keeping track; the bottle was passed back and forth and schwigs were taken from it. When the bottle was empty, another one showed up, and the morning melted into....
CHECK-OUT TIME. And at 1pm, it was a late check out at that. Vermont was four hours away. My head was full of Jim Beam and cobwebs. Was I still drunk? Was I hungover? Was I sick? I knew something I wasn't. Driving home.
The person at the Fairfield Inn counter could have charged me $300 for the room that I rented that day. I wouldn't have cared, at least at that point. I needed a shower, I needed a bed, I needed to clear my head. I rented a room and commenced the next 22 hours of my life which wasn't far from a living hell.
The next day I left for Vermont at about 11 in the morning. My hangover had faded and now I was left with a dull throbbing in my head and my entire body ached. It had snowed a few inches in Portland that night and there were cars and SUVs peppering the sides and medians of the Interstate and traffic was crawling. All I wanted to do was get home.
The drive took closer to five hours than the four that it should have. I ran out of windshield wiper fluid on the way back and I wasn't about to stop to get more. I found a trick though -- I would tailgate the nearest car for a few minutes. In that time I'd hope that there was more snow than mud on their wheels. My windshield would get sprayed and I'd run the wipers. With a bit of luck most of the dirt, salt and other stuff that was restricting my view would be washed away for at least a little while.
I finally made it home and the interesting part of my year ended. I was running a fever of 103 degrees. I hurt all over and I had no energy. I would cough and feel as if I were going to pass out. I was really sick. I saw the doctor twice in the next week and a half. I started out with a bad case of the flu and ended up with pneumonia.
My vacation from work was supposed to end on the 5th of January. Needless to say I didn't return on that day. I ended up taking the entire week off. I didn't do much of anything. I didn't feel like it. There's an ass-print on my bed where I parked myself for the majority of the time and Maury helped my knowledge of 200 pound two year olds and 14 year old hookers. I spent a few days on the couch at my parent's house hoping the change of scenery would help me get better.
I returned to work this past Monday. I feel so much better. I still don't have my entire voice back, and I'm still coughing a little bit, but it's a 3000% improvment from how I felt. All-in-all I lost about 10 pounds from not being able to eat -- enough where it's noticable and people have commented on it. Now to keep it like that. I cut my hair too while I was sick -- but I've been telling people I got so sick all my hair fell out. Believe it or not, some people actually believe me.
When it comes down to it -- I'm happy to be able to be a part of working society again.
