Lonely Is as Lonely Does

I decided since I am half brain-dead I should just title entries based on lyrics of songs I am listening to when I post. This one is from the song "Fish" by Throwing Muses, which (yikes!) is 20 years old now. My favorite lines in the whole song: "Lonely is as lonely does. Lonely is an eyesore. The feeling describes itself." I have never known what it means, and yet I somehow know all the same.

I've been cooped up in the house for over 24 hours, batlling what was at one time a 103-degree fever that had me lying on the floor in the living room sweating like crazy and watching the room tilt at an odd angle. After chugging some Tylenol, though, it finally broke and my temperature steadily dropped, until it was (oddly) 97.2 last night. I woke up today with what is (apparently) a head cold. Oh, how I love viruses.

I'd been looking forward to the weekend, as I was working all last weekend and was just exhausted by Friday, but, no, my body had other plans. I missed Tim's birthday celebration as a result. It's 85 degrees today and I can't do much other than sit here and look outside.

I feel like it would only take 72 hours of being ill and alone before I started creating imaginary friends in my head. The last time I was sick as I was yesterday was probably a year or two ago and I remember I was a pill then, too. Whiny, nearly infantile at points, and generally cranky.

I am still young enough to think that my body is somewhat infallible, even though I feel it creaking and groaning more often when I am playing tennis or when I am trying to run for more than 35 minutes at a time. Yet when I get sick to the point of being incapacitated, I am reminded how easy it is for something microscopic to bring you to a grinding halt.

No big epiphany, and probably not too interesting, either, I know--which is why I should go back to lying on the couch with my bottle of water, watching multiple episodes of The Golden Girls on DVD. I never realize how social of a person I actually am until I am forced to be home alone.