Aren't Vacations Supposed to be Fun?

Mood: Discouraged (Didn't get any writing done this week, despite being on 'vacation'. Also, just got smacked down by someone for a random, fun post about sparkly vampires on Facebook.)

What I'm Watching: Nothing (I know, right? Can anyone believe that I'm not actually watching a single thing on television. Yes, I paid the cable bill.)

Current Word Count: I am not willing to discuss that at this particular moment (meaning I haven't written at all this week)

Today? Is the final day of my vacation, and, even stuck at home, the vacation gods conspire against me. I had plans. I was going to write everyday. I was going to take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather. I was going to cook wonderful dinners for my husband every night.

In reality? My week went something like this:

Monday: Still feeling the effects of the cold I'd been fighting for a week. Lots of coughing, hacking, sneezing and generally feeling like crap. Tired, muscle aches, mental confusion (would start to say one thing and end up saying something completely different). Obviously the cold was kicking my butt a bit harder than I'd first anticipated. Writing muse refused to come near me lest she catch my germs. Spent day on couch aimlessly flipping channels. Watched re-runs of Married With Children.

Tuesday: Coughing less, congestion was clearing but still felt like crap on toast. Completely exhausted just by getting up and showered in the morning. I tried to do a little shopping but came home absolutely exhausted and in pain from the effort. Also? Added horrible nausea to my list of symptoms. It was at this point that I realized there was something more going on than just a cold.

Remembered doctor had changed up my medications when I was in to see him last week. Did some mental figuring and realized that my horrible symptoms started about the same time as the med changes. Checked side effects on internet and sure enough: horrible fatigue, muscle pain, muscle weakness, confusion, etc. All listed as potentially dangerous side effects. Also? If you're allergic to sulfa, you're not supposed to take this med...guess who's allergic to sulfa drugs? Houston, we have a problem here...

Called doc. and was told to discontinue meds.

Wednesday: I was stuck on the couch and completely unable to even contemplate cooking the wonderful potroast I'd had planned because the nausea and fatigue were still so overwhelming I couldn't function. However, I did discover that every single Maury show is about some woman trying to prove that some guy is her baby's daddy. Hmmm...

Thursday: More of the same. Feeling slightly more human but still completely worn out. Doctor's office calls back to check on me and says the nasty meds should be out of my system within the next 24 hours. Great. Looking forward to it. Comforted to know that they will now note my chart that I am sensitive to these medications. Ya think? Also realized that MTV's True Life is completely addicting. Wondering if they should do a "True Life: I'm addicted to True Life".

Friday: Today. Sigh. The last day of my vacation week. Definitely feeling more myself. The cold has all but gone, I'm slowly getting my energy back and the nausea? Has left the building. It's a beautiful day outside but I still feel as though I've been hit by a semi truck and my body needs to rest. Realize that watching Dr. Oz is not good for someone who has an over active imagination.

So, there you have it. And this? is why I should never plan a vacation.

Random Blog Thoughts

Mood: Tired (It's Monday, blah)

What I'm listening to: Don't Stop Believing (Excuse me while I take a mini-mental trip back into a Junior High Dance in the mid-80's).

So, since my life has been a pile of random thoughts over the last few days...

1. Why is it that (at least in Sparky's family) the amount of drama and discord at a family dinner is likely to go up in direct proportion to the amount of time and money spent preparing the meal? Mac and cheese? Minor squabbles. A 12 lb crown roast with all the trimmings? Complete family implosion.

2. If you've been eating healthy for months and then decide that you're going to treat yourself to McDonald's (because the family implosion killed your appetite for the crown roast), be prepared for a full scale gastrointestinal revolt. My stomach is only talking to me in short, angry bursts.

3. When you've dealt with the stress and anxiety of a complete family implosion and ingested the McDonald's, you will invariably end up on the sofa, curled up in a ball all day, alternating between worry that you are A. Dying of some rare liver/stomach ailment, B. suffering from some rare tropical disease that you probably picked up from the tropical fish at Wal-mart, or C. in the final stages of worst form of food poisoning (and mentally trying to remember if you've consumed any food containing peanut butter over the last few days).

4. There is a difference between 7-Up and Sprite. I understand that there are those of us on both sides of the sick-tummy soda debate. I, myself, am a firm 7-up gal. So why then did Sparky make a special trip out just to bring me back an 8 pack of Sprite??

5. My sick blanket (a pink and blue monstrosity that my mother crocheted for me when I was a teenager) really does have magical healing powers and I must have it to cover up with when I'm sick.

6. How can it be that I pay an obscene amount for cable, have something like a million channels and yet can't find one single thing worth watching? And why do I keep paying an obscene amount for a million channels when there's never anything on worth watching? It's the great mystery of life.

7. Groundhog Day. Although I'm inclined to think that taking our weather cues from a furry little critter is probably about as reliable as taking them from any random meterologist, does it really count as 'having seen his shadow' if you yank the poor little thing out of his peaceful slumber, set hold him up so he can be blinded by camera flashes and then see if he runs back underground? Wouldn't you?

Don't be surprised if next Feb. 2 the groundhog comes up toting an AK-47. I'm just saying.