The Sickness

Today was the first day that I was sick in NYC. I arrived back from Texas where I spent last weekend and bam! I have been waiting for this day for the past two and half months. Everyone, I mean everyone, told me that I was for sure going to get sick when I first moved up here, like there was some sort of newcomers plague and only if you survived it would you be allowed to stay. Well it never happened. I thought I had dodged by or hidden myself well enough amongst the good-looking people that the plague just took me for a seasoned veteran. But this is what I have been waiting for, this horror called The Sickness.

I have decided through my genius-doctorial skills that I have some swelling and infection in my lymph nodes and this is causing my jaw/neck/all around face to be in great pain. Also, there is likelihood that I have a sinus infection in the sinus area of my face. As I left all my old antibiotics at home in Texas when I moved, I have no back up prescriptions. I also am determined not to go to the doctor since I know what is wrong with me and have a great belief in the power of willing my body to get better. Plus, it’s really expensive.

So here I sit, with my Sickness. This morning was the first time I had gone out in NYC with it. This is my exact recount of this morning:

Leaving the house: “what a nice day, just right for a fall jacket and scarf. I actually feel a little better in the fresh air.

Getting on the subway: “Yes! I made it through the doors just in time! I wish I could sit down. It’s kinda hot in here.”

At a stop as a lady gets off: “I want to sit ther----ugh! I was gonna sit there!”

Still on the subway: “fuck it’s hot. I am taking off my jacket.”

Still still on the subway: “I might die from heat. Why did I wear clothes? I have a fever. My face hurts and I am going to die on the subway. I want to sit down.”

1 stop away a seat opens up: “well, now I can’t sit down, because then I’m the bitch that sits down for only one stop. Please hurry train, I will push you with my mind so you will go faster. GGRRUHHH!”

Off the subway and on the escalator: “I am literally exhausted from that ride. I will walk this slow to the escalator. I will get on the standing side and will not appreciate it. I will wait till the last step before I get off the escalator so as to not exert any energy. I am sick and you can not get mad at me.”

Outside going to my office: “this sun is too bright. Where are my sunglasses? WHERE ARE MY SUNGLASSES!?!?!? I know I put them here before I left Texas. WHERE ARE THEY?!?!?”

Crossing the street: “I WILL make this face at every taxi/person/building/litter I meet on the street. I hate the world. I am angry. And this is how I express my anger.”

In the building: “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me. Don’t. Look. At. Me.”

Finally in the office: “cough cough cough, sneeze, sneeze sneeze. Uggghhhhhhhhhmmmggjjllloo. I hate my life.”

Then I wrote this blog over the next 9 hours. Because I kept getting distracted by my eyes watery/nose running/sleepy time broth eating/nasty Theraflu taking/necessary bathroom breaking/ and The Office on megavideo watching.

All very essential to my day of sickness.