...and that I need to slow the fuck down. After so so much activity and late nights and partying and stressing at work and writing til the wee hours of the morning, my body is crying, "No MAS!"
These are the big neon signs I'm getting:
~My head feels all floaty, as if I'm high off that stickiest of the icky...
~My throat is scratchy and is making my voice do weird things.
~I'm tired. I went to bed before midnight the last four nights. In a row. And slept through the night.
~My body aches. Like when I used to have that personal trainer and he'd make me carry that bitch ass 12lb bar all over Riverdale.
~I'm craving soup. Really hot soup. And tea. And Vick's vapor rub.
Boy, I tell ya, this flu is trying its darnedest to grab a hold of me and knock me out, but thanks to a summer of semi-good living, and roughly three years of a pharmaceutical-free existence (pot doesn't count!) my body is fighting back on its own.
Only trouble is, we're not used to fighting, and the effort is wiping us out. I barely have the strength to finish typing this post.
*smooches...on my way to the deli to buy hot water for my Theraflu...*
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Reminders That I Am Alive...
More genius from The Jaded NYer
Labels: Body Wars