I hate getting sick. I’m still playing catch up NOW for the LAST time I fell ill. It royally sucks. Making apologies for missed messages, calls, and emails takes me forever when I finally do feel better. Not to mention the hell of trying to get my house back together after two or three days of laying on my azz.
And, truthfully… Well, I’m just pitiful. Rolling from side to side. Muffling sniffles and silent cries into my pillow. I rarely eat, because it requires moving my aching limbs. It all becomes just one big blur of blankets and empty water bottles.
Thank God for my poor puppy. He’s always so faithful, sleeping securely on my nearest hip or next to my warm thighs. Sure, a friend who could rub my back or fix me a bowl of soup would be nice, but Spaz is probably the most loving cuddler I know, and I wouldn’t trade him in for anything in the world.
A couple of days ago, I awoke with the worst sore throat. At first, it just hurt to swallow. Then, it hurt to fuckin live. I swear, I JUST GOT OVER BEING SICK. This shit sucks.
However, there is something very different about this time. About three feet away from me, my sweet little chihuahua is snuggled up next to my best girlfriend, Jada. She was here when I first became sick, and has remained by my side ever since. Just her kindness and companionship when I am feeling so down truly is the biggest help.
A few days ago, we discovered that my cable includes all of the HBO channels. HELL-O! We haven’t watched an actual commercial since then, people. But I’ve probably watched the backs of my eyelids more than anything else.
Sliding in and out of consciousness has caused my reality to become a mixture of scattered movie clips, dreams, and my own personal thoughts. It kinda feels like a weird acid trip. I could almost find it enjoyable, if not for all the damn pain. Ooh… My throat hurts.
I fell ill before I had the opportunity to tell ya’ll about my Valentines Day. I didn’t get any flowers or candy, but it was a wonderful day, all the same. My bountiful boobies absolutely refused to remain within the confines of the little red nightie I wore to mark the occasion. The perfect visual to greet a new friend with. Don’t ya think?
Jada and I planned doubles during the day, but the evening was mine. One of my dearest friends had been trying to see me, but I’m usually far too tired by the time he left work. This year, my Valentines Day evening had been reserved ESPECIALLY FOR HIM.
I took my time applying my makeup and painting my toenails up so pretty, slightly nervous about his arrival. Not that he makes me uncomfortable. Actually… it’s very much the opposite. I feel far, far too comfortable when I’m in his company. Conversation cums way too easily. Sex is downright remarkable. It’s all just… I don’t know. It’s all just… Natural.
I admit, I was surprised that he came empty-handed. I know. Silly. Right? Oh, I don’t know. I’m a female, and IT WAS Valentines Day. But, whatever. He brought himself. I was happy enough with just that.
I know you’re expecting all of the dirty details. Don’t need ’em. It’s all locked in vivid color right here behind my eyelids. I don’t even think there are the proper words to relay the experience to you accurately now. My continued dreamlike state has allowed me to relive it all repeatedly, while preventing my thorough examination of any of the residual feelings left behind.
For now, I think I’m just gonna pull this fuzzy blanket a little closer and try to drift back off into restless slumber.
Sweet dreams, my dear friends.
And vivid fantasies.