I was sick this weekend. Somehow, someway, I picked up a stomach virus. I’m still fighting it today, but it isn’t nearly as bad as it was two days ago.
It all began with the weirdest dream. Friday night into Saturday morning I dreamed I ate a bad banana and was so sick, I resembled Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Yes, pea green soup sick.
Imagine my surprise when I woke up bright and early Saturday morning to have a long conversation with Ralph on the big, white phone. Yes, I was sick and that dream kept haunting me through a hellish day of fever, chills, stomach cramps, and just plain misery.
Are you depressed yet? It was so bad, my mother wasn’t allowed touch my newest nephew for fear she’d give him whatever I had. Poor Mom and poor Bennett, not to be able to get hugs and kisses from his ma-maw. Of course, I had to agree with my brother and sister-in-law. I’d have felt worst if he’d contracted what I have.
So today I’m going to try to finish resting up and resist the urge to have conversations with Ralph. Maybe I’ll even dream up some excellent scenes for the three WIPs I have to write for NaNo. Who knows what kind of messed up dreams I’ll have today?
I hope your weekend was a lot better!