EggsOverEggs

Down Fall; Illness

We’ve reached the time of year, in New England, when the weather begins to change rapidly.  A lot of tourists from surrounding states like New York and New Jersey will travel to Ct and other states in New England to stare at leaves and drive around like assholes.  Traffic on 95 becomes worse than usual and random mafia wars will sometimes break out in the quiet, little towns along the shore.  But I’m ok with all of this.  In New England, fall lasts for about a month.  It begins mid-September when it is technically still summer, and it ends rather abruptly in mid-October with the first snowfall which, like clockwork, is predicted for this coming Thursday, October 15th.  During this month’s time the leaves on the trees do turn fantastic shades of yellow and orange, and yes when they are ablaze in the sunlight of an autumn day one can be struck with a certain sense of beauty and awe, but then you go to bed one night and the next morning your fucking car is covered in fucking snow and there’s not a single leaf left on a single F’n tree.

I’m not exaggerating.  One day you have beautiful fall colors and everyone’s wearing thick cable-knit turtle neck sweaters and going apple picking and drinking warm cider, and the next you’re scraping ice of your goddamn windshield with a broken ice scraper because, who thinks to buy a new ice scraper when it’s summertime and you have better things to do?  In short, the transition between fall and winter in the great New England territory is abrupt and leaves me with a sense of longing and usually a nasty cold.

Which brings me to my next point.  Over the weekend I was sick.  Around this time of year I always catch some stupid cold.  This year, apparently, will be no different. 

It started around the middle of last week.  I noticed a slight pressure building in my head.  The first couple of days I chalked it up to being over tired/seasonal allergies.  I think I was averaging about six hours of sleep per night last week which, for me, is far too low.  Anything under seven hours of sleep per night and I just don’t feel right.  I become tired and cranky much like a two-year-old who has missed his afternoon nap.  I’m easily irritated, I snap at people for no reason, and my thoughts often become sad and depressive.  It’s really quite pathetic but what can I say?  I needs my sleeps.  Also, I truely believe that I’m being affect by seasonal allergies just to make things that much worse.  I’m a fairly bad allergy sufferer during the spring months when there is a lot of pollen floating through air and all that shit, but I’ve never before been affect by allergies during the fall.  Apparently that has changed.  For the past month or so I’ve had all the allergy symptoms I normally get during the spring.  So for the past month really I’ve felt like shit, and over the past weekend it would be more accurated to say I felt like a bag of smashed assholes.

The overall feeling was one of a general fatigue or malaise.  The sickness really hit home on Friday making work particularly brutal.  The overwhelming pressure in my head, which I’m assuming was caused by hopelessly clogged sinuses, was an experience I won’t soon forget.  I still feel it slightly today, but through the use of various decongestants and several hundred tablets of ibuprofin I’ve been able to greatly reduce the pressure.  Friday evening I made a feeble attempt to “power through” my condition.  I vigirously drank three gin and tonics and made some phone calls to see what was going on for the evening but it was no use.  Instead of my usual Friday evening “amped up party guy” mood, the more I drank the more tired and fatigued I became.  I finally succumbed to my condition and decided to stay in.  My friend Erick, also having nothing to do, was kind enough to take a trip to my home and play video games with me for a few hours.  Big ups to Erick for that.  I know if he was sick and I had nothing better to do, I would’ve stayed the hell away from him, but his superhuman powers have rendered him immune to pretty much any disease you can think of. 

Saturday wasn’t much different.  I was confined to bed for most of the day.  My mother made me chicken soup.  The smell of which got me out of bed in the first place.  Big ups to her for that.  At least I know I have some people I can rely on if I ever fall ill again.  Most of the day was spent watching TV, dicking around on internet, and playing xbox.  So all in all it was a very typical Saturday. I just felt more tired and like someone had stuck my head in a vice and was slowly clamping down.  Saturday night I had every intention of once again trying to power through the illness.  Erick met me at my house and we headed out.  Moments after I got in the car I began to miss the warmth of my house.  All I could think about was being in bed watching TV.  I had already spent so much time in bad that day my back hurt, but it was all I could think about.  We couldn’t decide on a place to eat, and the idea of going out and drinking until I felt better just seemed less and less appealing.  We ended up getting food at our old stand-by, the Athenian Diner in Middletown which, if you did not already know, is the greatest dining establishment in the state of Connecticut.  I will not go into more detail now, but I’m sure I’ll dedicate a post or two to this culinary institution sometime in the near future.  Erick and I ended up renting a movie and going back to my house and watching it.  Thanks again uncle Erick.

I want it to be known that if this had happened two or three years ago, there is no way the thought of staying home all weekend resting and getting well would have ever crossed my mind.  I would’ve been out drinking until three in the morning both Friday and Saturday night.  Sure, my condition would’ve worsened considerably, but I never would have sacrificed an entire weekend simply to get over a cold.  Does this mean I’m getting too old to party?  Have I passed my prime and with it my ability to prioritize my life in a fun-oriented manner?  Or does it mean that I’ve become resposible enough to know when I need to slow down and rest.  After all, devoting two days to rest and relaxation has greatly improved my condition.  I can sit here today typing this and tell you in all honesty that I feel fine.  On Friday I never would have guessed that I’d feel better by the following Tuesday.  Perhaps I just have super regenerative powers and regardless of what I did over the weekend I would have felt fine by today anyway.  Odds are that’s not the case.  I’d like to think I still know how to have a good time, and maybe I’m realizing I don’t even need to drink in order to do so, but I’m gettin way ahead of myself.

Sunday was pretty good as far as Sundays go.  I noticed a marked improvement in my health.  With my spirits restored I was free to venture out as I pleased.  This resulted in my second trip to the diner in a 12 hour timespan and a leisurely trip to the Meriden mall where I yelled at a high school girl in Journeys for not having a pair of shoes in my size and a cashier at Best Buy because her register was down.  Yep everything was back to normal.  The rest of the day/evening was spent watching the Patriots lose (ouch) and all of season 4 of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  Quaint.

So maybe I am becoming more responsible.  I suppose it had to happen eventually.  It’ s not as if I can’t still get drunk on a Wednesday night and call out of work on a whim.  If I was so inclined, I could do that whenever I wanted.  I have plenty of sick time, but I like to hoard it so I’ll probably never do that.