I consider myself something of a realistic optimist. Or maybe I’m an optimistic realist. Suffice it to say, I’m typically smiling, but I’m not naive–and I think there’s a certain bit of naivety to be found in pure optimists. I’ve got much too much eyebrow raising in me for that.
However, with the cheery disposition comes a love of simple things, like spending time with people I love, Christmas music (“It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” is playing right now), a good movie, a good scent, Donald Duck, a hug.
This all means that the holidays with my family are huge for me. When my husband and I got together, we decided we’d split Thanksgiving and Christmas between his family in town and my family a state over. That way, we see both groups each year, but we don’t ever have to worry about traveling 3 1/2 hours in one day to see both at once. It’s a pretty great set-up. It also means that whichever year is my family’s turn gets me all giddy.
This Thanksgiving, it was my family’s turn. I hadn’t been home for two months, so I was beyond excited.
But then … ohhhh, but then.
I woke up Wednesday with a tickle in my throat, but I hardly noticed it for the excitement. I couldn’t sleep Tuesday night, I was so looking forward to my extra long weekend at my folks’, and I chalked it up to that.
By noon, I was dragging. Achey. Wondering, am I … No. No way, not a chance. By 2:30, my fever was 102. I made Jeff drive, and I brought a blanket to cuddle with in the car. By Thanksgiving, every joint and bone in my body ached.
I spent Thanksgiving day quarantining myself in the back room, waving to my family members, going up for dinner after everyone had sat down with their food, pointing out what I wanted to my parents or Jeff so I didn’t have to touch the serving utensils. (Johnny Mathis’s “O Come, All Ye Faithful”)
Friday morning, things were a little better, and I went Black Friday shopping with Mom. By Saturday morning, the fever had changed into the kind of sinus pressure that had me considering the benefits of drilling a small hole in my skull. My movie date with my dad and husband got pushed back to Sunday, when the pressure was gone and the sound of space ships taking off wouldn’t make me want to stab a bitch. (We saw “Interstellar.” It’s a perfect movie. Go see it before it leaves theaters.)
I took Cyber Monday off work to fill orders from the big shopping weekend. Today, Tuesday, I’m better. A little off, a little out of it, but better.
But I think–I know–that was the worst Thanksgiving in 31 years. Christmas, you better treat me better. (Finishing up with “Last Christmas.” I love you, Wham!)
Tell me things were better for you??