Oh, good lord. Is this the day I should be writing the post I should have written weeks ago, yet have either been to busy, too lazy, or too sick to write? To quote a blogger dear to me, I'm sure I don't know.
Anyhoodle, Friday night I left work, went to the grocery store, came home and made dinner, and ate, oblivious to the fact that my 96 hours of house arrest had begun. We started to watch a movie, and I tried to ignore the intensifying feeling that all was not well in my GI region. Grape juice and DiGiorno thin crust supreme is less tasty on the revisit, and I will now forever associate Plan 9 from Outer Space with the intense nausea and cramping of January Virus Weekend 2009. The only upside is that we got a crap ton of snow, none of which I had to shovel, and Himself went out to buy me tea and other nice things. I slept a lot, and generally did my best Beth in 'Little Women' impression. Only I didn't die. (Sorry about the spoiler, for those of you who haven't read it in the 141 years since its publication.)
I tried to do a few things to make me feel better, though I learned that if you are going to do your nails during a movie, you should pick one without subtitles. You miss things. Just sayin'. I mixed up a fancy organic masque sample I had and applied it to my pasty face in an attempt to 'pamper' myself. It smelled like potting soil, bad breath, and vaguely toxic art supplies. The cat eyed me warily, as if he was silently chanting some feline incantation of rebuke and protection.
Monday, I stayed home, since a shower still required a two-hour nap recovery. Watched the two movies that make me feel better; Little Women and Enchanted April. Took more naps. Came to work today because the view from my bedroom window was starting to make me feel a little insane. (Tiny beige house. Tiny beige house. Tiny beige house. A car! Tiny beige house. Tiny beige house.) Fortunately today involves mostly sitting and doing things with my brain, and I think I can handle it.
I promise to post again very soon. I have dog dominance, duck brinkmanship, and strange overhearings at the coffee shop to tell you about.