In which I talk about being sick! Yay!

Not so many entries lately. First not a whole lot has happened, and second, I have caught death. Bad death. Serious, mean, cruel, body-aching death. I am not altogether pleased about this.

Well. Okay. So. This weekend Andrew Sutton, an American swing dance teacher, came to teach workshops. Good. Came all the way over here to learn swing dancing from an American. Fantastic.

I missed Saturday’s workshops because I felt that sleeping in was the better option. I had not yet acquired death, but was thinking about it, what with having some Tireds and Vague Sore Throat.

That evening, however, I took a cab to the rendezvous place. Taking a cab? So expensive! £6 to get across town. Crikey. But I couldn’t walk there fast enough and I still don’t get the bus systems here, so that was my option. Unless I wanted to run across town, and really, not so much. I piled into a car with some dancers – only one of them local – and headed off to Galashiels, where a big band was playing. For dancing! Yay dancing! I dance.

All the dancers felt off in their leading or following that night – except Andrew, being so professional that he never has an off night. Which is not cool.

And guys, they played a waltz and I had no one to dance with. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to waltz? So long! So I cried. Not really. But I looked enviously out at the people dancing and got myself into a huff.

Huff huff huff.

Excuse me. I’m sick. I’m working at about 20% brain power.

I started feeling decently about my dancing at about the time that we were getting ready to go. And I got dropped off and went to bed. Oo, exciting.

Sunday I hauled myself up for dance workshops and was exhausted by a quarter of the way through. I got good information, so it was worth it, but man I was tired. When it was over I went home. Sensing another trend here? I am! Thanks, 20/20 hindsight!

And Monday I had level 3 death. Lots of tired. Managed to get out of the house for a bit to try and find trousers and –

Okay, y’all? I am fated to never, ever, ever find well-fitting trousers. Ever. I have spent two days searching – even searching at places where I find trousers at home – and my options are 1. too tight (I have plenty of options here), or 2. humorously loose. I hate women’s sizes. Sometimes 14 is fine, sometimes 16 is fine, and sometimes 18 is too tight. Explain that one too me.

I’ll explain it – it’s a conspiracy. Bitches.

Anyway. I went out to see Pride and Prejudice with a friend of mine and realized that I was feeling of level 3 death, which seemed, at the time, to be level 2 death. So I went home after the movie and went to bed. And all was well.

Tuesday! Was fine! Felt fine. So went dancing, naturally. Oh. I felt good about my dancing and I was having fun chatting with people and working on my balboa and I was sure that all was right with the world. I even got a ride home from Jacqi who very conveniently lives around the corner from me.

And then I got home. Cue stomachache. And achies. I went to bed and woke up early-early with miserable stomachache, splitting headache, stuffed nose, and body aches. And I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I tossed and turned, occasionally dozing. Noon rolled around and I couldn’t be bothered to drag myself out of bed. Eventually I worked up the energy to put on a movie (thank god for my computer and movies) and stayed mostly comatose all day.

I got out at one point to get meds, because I didn’t really have anything with me. Had worked through all my advil and boy howdy did (do) I hurt. I spent £11 on meds and crawled back home. And I’ve been in bed since. I’ve had crackers and grapes today. And the Scottish equivalent of Gatorade, which is called Lucozade. Hee. I’m completely dehydrated, which is likely a key source of my problem.

The cold/flu meds I got don’t let you take other painkillers with them. That is so not cool. I want to drug myself until I sleep through the sickness and wake with sunshine and bluebirds and little deer strolling around my room.

And now I hurt and am tired and have been complaining to various people all day. And now I’m complaining to you folks! Hi guys! I feel like crap!

I’m running out of movies and things to watch. This is a problem. I feel like reading would make for more headache (writing isn’t doing me so much good but god I’m bored), and I’ve seen all my movies a million times.

So tomorrow, more cabin fever and no dancing for me. Man. Someone come over. Bring movies.