It’s official: I have the flu. I tested positive for Influenza A, although apparently for the seasonal type rather than the H1N1 piggy flu type, which I suppose is a small mercy. However, it’s still the damn flu.
My fever spiked to 101.9 before I went to bed last night, though it finally broke sometime in the middle of the night. I woke up at about 2am and felt a lot better, but realized my sheets were completely drenched in sweat. That was just awesome.
The worst of the fever seems gone – I’ve been hovering between 99 and 100 all day today – but the coughing, exhaustion, and loss of appetite are still on full-force.
I will say, the flu is a very effective (though not at all recommended) way to balance out the fact that I ate like a pig in Chicago. Between basically having to force-feed myself even the 1200-1400 calories a day I can get down and spending a lot of extra energy on such illness-related tasks as sweating profusely, I’m already back down to what I weighed before I left.
I would have preferred the traditional exercise method, but I certainly can’t deny the efficacy of the flu.
The doctor wrote me a scrip for Tamiflu, which she thinks will be effective in preventing this from turning into anything worse, as well as possibly knocking a couple days off the end of the illness.
She also gave me among the more amusing doctor’s instructions I’ve gotten in a while, which were “Sleep a lot, drink a lot of fluids, and watch a lot of T.V.” Waaaaay ahead of you there, doc.
I got home 20 minutes ago. I switched shifts with my boss tomorrow, so I have to be at work about three hours earlier than I otherwise would, which means even ditching the gym tomorrow, I have to be asleep in about 20 minutes.
Worked until 2am Saturday morning then had to get up at 8:30 to drop off Chaplin to get his stitches out Tired. Passed out on the couch repeatedly all day Saturday because I didn’t have the energy to drag myself to bed Tired.
Chaplin still bonking into things with his cone until tomorrow night because the vet changed her mind about how long he has to wear it Tired.
Biked 35 miles today Tired. Would probably have biked further if I’d realized how late my Sunday work was going to be Tired.
Finally got dragged into work at 8pm tonight for weekend script distro right as I was about to send an email asking if maybe we shouldn’t put out whatever we were putting out tomorrow Tired.
At least my call tomorrow is pushed off a bit tomorrow Tired, because if I had to be there at 8am after this I would have killed someone Tired.
So tired I’m ending this post with a gratuitous Blazing Saddles clip:
A day that was supposed to be a sixth day became a lazy day yesterday, and by doing so I actually managed to get shit done today.
By being a complete useless lump all day Saturday, I saved up the energy to do laundry, go grocery shopping, swim 3km in damn good time, dye my hair, and even remake the bed.
Well, technically not remake the bed yet, since Chaplin keeps sitting on the covers and getting all bitey as I try to make it, rendering any attempts to do so both useless and slightly perilous. God help me if I ever get a girlfriend who’s not a complete slob likes me and insists I make the bed every day rather than whenever I damn well feel like it.
Anyway, I see the finish line at work – Maybe spilling over into a couple of shoot-free office days on Christmas week, but lord, we’re close.
Christmas won’t be quite the hibernation week in Connecticut I was expecting because of some family medical fun I won’t get into here, but it won’t be work. And at this point I need a simple break from work more than I need the hibernation I traditionally take this time of year.
A lot physically tired, a little tired of getting run into the ground at work, VERY tired of this election, frustrated-tired of the stupid plateau I hit with my weight, tired of just having no time to do anything except work out, work, and sleep.
And the latter of which I really don’t have as much time to do as I’d like. Which is why I’m dragging myself to bed right now. Whee!
Last week: 6 days, somewhere between 75-80 hours (I pretty much lost count).
Today: 13 hours, and lost my boss halfway through the day so I got to pull double-duty for most of the afternoon. Tomorrow: Likely even more ridiculous.
I’m bloody exhausted, but I will say: I’m glad I’ve been WAY too busy to watch the economy implode. I’d probably be a lot more worried about it if I had a better grasp on what in the fuck is going on.
Prep is always pretty brutal. Trying to formulate a system to get everyone all the information they need, figuring out exactly what information they actually do need, and even simply trying to get a grip on who the fuck everyone is before we start shooting is a time-consuming and exhausting process.
Adding onto that the increasingly Herculean task of dragging myself to the gym an absolute minimum of 4 days a week to try and keep the weight loss going, and time for damn near anything starts to evaporate.
And of course, only in my world is it a problem that this is all happening as almost every show on television starts to premiere. Sure, I have a terabyte of storage space on the big TiVo, but I want to watch everything noooooooow. And by everything, I mean the 30+ hours of crap I plan to record every single week.
All in all, I just need the days to be longer. As much as the prep process sucks, I like my job. And the working out has left me feeling physically better than I have in a long time. But I need more sleep, and I could really use some more time to myself during the week.
Alas, for now, I’ll just keep rolling along, taking the occasional Saturday off the gym and then deciding to make up for it by doing a gym triathlon on Sunday. And sleeping like a hibernating bear on the weekends.
Went for a little ride with the Old Fart Bike Brigade: Atlanta Edition today. And when I say “a little ride”, I mean this nice 28 mile loop. I’m a little tired now.
While I did manage to do better than my dad (in his defense, he’s almost 72 and I’m 27), I was slightly dismayed to find that I was huffing and puffing to keep pace with a barely-breaking-a-sweat 65 year old prostate cancer patient.
I’m in better shape than I was, but I apparently still have a ways to go. We’ll see how I hold up Wednesday with Old Fart Bike Brigade 2: Electric Jewgaloo (aka the Wood River Jewish Community ride).
