I see it as fodder for my writing.
For example. I had no idea what I was going to write this blog on an hour ago. Then whilst talking to my sister about various Shakespearean ideas it hit me. I can write about the fact that I was a whining idiot for five days. Well, maybe not whining, but I didn't move from my bed for two whole days.
I lived off of tea, soup, and Miyazaki movies. He is an artist that Miyazaki. When I get sick, my comfort is in the international. I either end up watching Dr. Who episodes or my Japanese movies. Then my cat joins in by climbing underneath my covers and taking a nap with me. I usually end up awakening to cat fur in my face and kitty snores.
Yes she snores. Don't judge her, it's actually very cute.
What I love is the fact that when I'm sick, I act just like I normally do most mornings. I stumble out of bed, wobble towards the kitchen where I throw some water or juice in my stomach before I pass out from low blood pressure. Then I proceed to sit for a good fifteen minutes to actually wake up. It's also not unusual for me to wake up with a stuffy nose that recedes within a half hour or so. When my stuffy nose doesn't go away after an hour, that's when I know I'm getting sick.
Among other signs. But we will not get into those.
So yeah, I am not a movable object in the mornings. Which is why if my mother needs me to get up in the early morning for whatever reason, she always makes sure to give me a good ten minutes to wake up before rushing me out the door. There is a good reason for this and it's a damn good one.
My sister was home from college for some reason or another (I think spring break...) and she was making brownies for my mother. My mother needed the brownies relatively quickly if I'm remembering correctly and she had told Katie that I should be sent to get eggs in the morning as we had run out. So being the obedient daughter that my sister is, she woke me up and sent me out the door. The conversation went like this:
Katie: "Suz, get up. I'm making momma's brownies and I need you to go to the store to get eggs."
Me: * unintelligible mumble*
Katie: "SUZIE. WAKE UP."
Me: "Whaa.....hmm?"
Katie: "You need to get eggs!"
My sister is a loving person and definitely not a slave driver. But that morning I was rushed out the door before I realized what happened. At the grocery store I had my keys and money in hand while shuffling towards the eggs. Apparently, I looked out of sorts in my pajama pants with unruly hair splayed all over the place and an employee decided to check on me. That conversation went like this:
Lady: "Hi there, can I help you find anything?"
Me: "S'fine, going," mumble mumble "eggs."
Lady: "I'm ....sorry?"
Me: "Eggs. Need them...jhust going tha way."
Lady: "You sure...you don't need any...help?"
Me: "Nope! Getting eggs. Good ta go."
I sounded like a drunk person trying to find their fix. I was wearing pj's with a light jacket, sneakers, my hair was unkempt and I was shuffling around like I forgot how to walk. It was no wonder that I was followed all the way out the door. I paid, shuffled out the door and got in my car. Upon reaching the house I ambled into the kitchen and dropped off my package with a simple "Got the eggs....going back to bed..."
When I awoke an hour later I walked determinedly into the kitchen with "Never do that again." My sister, utterly bewildered, asked what I meant. I replied that I didn't remember driving to or from the grocery store and that freaked me out.
"Next time," I told her, "Give me a few minutes to process!"
Apparently if not given the proper amount of time for my body to wake up, I will have pieces of my memory disappear. Trippy. So that's why I'm always given plenty of time to move in the mornings. Being sick for me is kind of like having a constant morning. Of course when reminding my sister of this event, she could barely remember it.
Le sigh. That's what you get for artistic fodder. No one remembers it but you.
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