(no subject)
I hate feeling like I need a vacation after going on vacation.
Usually my trips like these (minus Breah in France) go off pretty smoothly, but this time it was like everything that could have gone wrong did, at least as far as my health goes. Especially since I never get sick.
I seriously considered bailing out on the trip quite a few times Wednesday morning after having to wake up at 4am and feeling like I couldn't even stand.
But I brushed it off like you know I would.
Figures, since two minutes after boarding the bus I got super nauseous.
I blame the psychedelic patterns with which they furnished the seats.
Sooo I snuck off the bus, changed, got back on while enduring all those looks you know so well from when you got sick in the middle of story time in the third grade, and then sat through the 14 hours it took to get to the nation's capital doing the technicolor god yawn twice more before the end of it.
Over the three days we were there I ended up opting out of just one activity in the midst of a 101.9 fever, the worst kind of sore throat that would not go away, and more nausea.
I saw pandas! and tigers! and some famous people behind tinted windows! and my favorite Renoir! and the Hope Diamond! and lost 4 pounds from eating next to nothing! and went out with family! and packed my suitcase all by myself!
but,
mostly,
I just realized how crazy, indescribably, fall-in-love-all-over-again lucky I am to have Andrew.
Usually my trips like these (minus Breah in France) go off pretty smoothly, but this time it was like everything that could have gone wrong did, at least as far as my health goes. Especially since I never get sick.
I seriously considered bailing out on the trip quite a few times Wednesday morning after having to wake up at 4am and feeling like I couldn't even stand.
But I brushed it off like you know I would.
Figures, since two minutes after boarding the bus I got super nauseous.
I blame the psychedelic patterns with which they furnished the seats.
Sooo I snuck off the bus, changed, got back on while enduring all those looks you know so well from when you got sick in the middle of story time in the third grade, and then sat through the 14 hours it took to get to the nation's capital doing the technicolor god yawn twice more before the end of it.
Over the three days we were there I ended up opting out of just one activity in the midst of a 101.9 fever, the worst kind of sore throat that would not go away, and more nausea.
I saw pandas! and tigers! and some famous people behind tinted windows! and my favorite Renoir! and the Hope Diamond! and lost 4 pounds from eating next to nothing! and went out with family! and packed my suitcase all by myself!
but,
mostly,
I just realized how crazy, indescribably, fall-in-love-all-over-again lucky I am to have Andrew.