the tale of a birthday that was almost bad but then was very good pt. 1

"I think I'm getting sick."

I hadn't really processed what I was feeling until those words came out of my mouth. Jared turned around & warily up-downed me as if I had just told him that I was growing a tail. We just stood there for a few seconds, because after a pre-birthday celebration at my parents (pictured above) that included an amazing dinner, cute ginger niece, & crepe cake (CREPE CAKE, GUYS), there had been no indication of The Sicks. I didn't know anyone that had been sick. But there it was - that awful throat tickle, the clogged ears, those terrible chills.

So, sure enough, somewhere between 4 & 5 a.m. on my 25th birthday, I woke up feeling like death. & wouldn't it just make sense that the neighbors on the other side of our bedroom wall picked that morning to enjoy their biannual, ridiculously over-dramatized romp? Not kidding about the biannual or the ridiculously over-dramatized part, & you can't just sleep through that. Yaaaay, apartment living. *double thumbs down* Jared had to leave for work a little after 5 a.m., so he laid medicine out for me & left before the sun was up.

I reached for my first tissue of the day a couple hours later & slowly mosied myself out to the family room, where I parked my birthday tush on the couch surrounded by pillows & blankets & tissues. Jared had coffee waiting for me, so I poured a cup & reveled in how good it felt on my achey throat. Netflix, this coffee & I were going to have a really nice & slow birthday morning.

Somewhere in the middle of my second episode of Orange is the New Black, the handle of the mug I was drinking coffee out of just... popped off. Not really "just" popped off, as it had been broken off three years ago & been glued back into functionality ever since. It was a piping hot surprise - A surprise that landed on my arm, side, lap, pillows, couch, blankets... Everywhere. There was coffee everwhere. I sat there, stunned, for a couple seconds before I managed to grab all the coffee stained items & run them to the bathroom. I had torn off my coffee-covered pajamas before they could scald the right side of my body & realized in the middle of my tizzy that I was scampering around the apartment in my skivvies, carrying 5 pillows & two blankets.  I stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at the neighbor's window that looks directly into our apartment. It's no wonder our neighbors have no respect for us. Defeated, I put a robe on & walked back to the couch that was still covered in brown splotches. "I guess coffee is the new couch." I said to the completely empty apartment. *badum cheeeeee*

Aaaaaand then I started crying. Crying because Jared is the resident stain-getter-outter & he wouldn't be home for hours, crying because my coffee was gone, crying because said coffee had burnt my shoulder, crying because I could see I was getting low on tissues, crying because 25 was already kinda freaking me out & this whole day of calamity seemed to be really bad juju for the year to come.

The coffee came up from the couch cushion pretty easily. I showered, which is always the #1 remedy to The Sicks & left me feeling a little better. As time crept by, my outlook seemed to improve the closer it got to Jared being home. He arrived home to me still on the couch, having finished OITNB (worst show acronym ever?) & moved on to Call of the Wildman. (Yes, of the "Live action!" variety. I wish I could blame being sick, but I really just love that show.) As soon as he walked in the door, it was like the day was starting over. We still had a weekend with friends to look forward to, he reminded me, & then he packed our bags & took me to get soup before we hit the road for Richmond. I'm happy to report that even though I remained sick, the weekend took off from there, because apparently 10 lbs. of apple in one day will keep the doctor away.

To be continued...

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because lezz be frandz.