So yesterday? Not my best day. Couldn't figure out the funk. Couldn't figure out why I kept bursting into tears over nothing. Couldn't blame hormones, wrong week. My family? Not really behaving any worse than usual. The weather? Yucky, but hell, I like rain. So I did what I said I was going to do. I shut off the computer. Made my bed, took a shower, got a sandwich and a soda and settled on my couch. I texted Hildi because I knew she'd cheer me up or at least agree with me that life just doesn't live up to your expectations some days. Then I watched some twilight zone. And then I feel asleep. When I woke up, I figured it out. Fever and a sore throat and a headache. Me coming down with something = blue funk. Me with a fever = tears.
As I've said before, I have a wacked out weird body and fibromyalgia. Both my sister and I have normally low body temperatures. So by the time I have what the doctors consider a fever (100+), I've feeling the effects of a higher fever. And for some reason, they always make me cry. Hildi and Lu are the same way. So I took some ibuprofen and curled back up on the couch and watched a totally ridiculous movie on Lifetime about this little girl who was reincarnated from a murder victim. The idea was actually good, the acting, plot, dialogue, not so much. Then Sean came in and said he had a really bad headache and his arm rash itched. I blamed my illness on him. He felt so bad for me that he made his own lunch. (I know! Shocking, right?!)
Hubby stuck his head in the door and checked on me. Then he actually brought clothes up from the dryer (of course, he didn't fold or put away, but I can't ask for miracles), put the ones from the washer in the dryer, and started a load with the muddy clothes he'd just taken off. Will wonders never cease???! Maybe I should cry more often?! After the movie, I got up and made supper. Sean had actually asked for fish sticks, box mac-n-cheese & peas. I know. I'm still scratching my head over that one too. But both my children told me last grocery list that they missed the foods from their younger years (fish sticks, pigs-n-blankets, chicken nuggets). I stared at them. I cook from scratch nearly every night and these are the things they want?? So every so often I've been working a "young & poor" meal into the menu. Weirdos.
After watching a movie on TV with the fam, I headed off to my room. Got on my pj's and settled onto my bed with the files of my fiction work from my file cabinet. I wanted to see how many completed stories I had, how many needed editing, how many were ready for submission. I ended up reading my old rejection letters. (Yes, I kept them. Apparently I'm a masochist. Who knew??) But as I read through them, and out loud to Sean, who'd come into my room to talk, I realized they weren't totally rejection slips. Many of them had said I had talent and even though they couldn't use that story to keep submitting. One editor even took the time to edit the first half of a story and show me my mistakes. And tell me to resubmit after corrections. Unfortunately, the editor had a death in the family and the anthology never got published. But I was this close. And it renewed my ambition.
Then Sean left and I started watching a really bad movie on the Chiller channel. But Lu's hippie had arrived, along with a friend of his (and ours) and they plus Lu piled into the room. (Are we beginning to see how Spot has no privacy? I mean these kids are in my bedroom.) We all talked for about an hour until hubby came in and announced he was going to sleep and kicked them out.
Today, I still have a stupid sore throat. And a headache. But I'm keeping the fever at bay so no tears. And I feel better, indeed. Mentally anyway. Which is the most important part. I'm psyched again about my writing. And life is good...
Have a fantastic Saturday,