Today is many things. It's Valentine's Day, which Eric and I really don't celebrate because we're in the "you should appreciate your partner every day" camp as well as the "we'd rather spend money on more fun things than flowers or chocolate" camp. It's the day of the Mardi Gras ball that I've looked forward to for 3 months. It's also a day where I feel like I am going to die. For realz.
I was so excited because I didn't get deathly sick at my birthday and Christmas in 2014 the way I did the last 2 years prior. I was all cocky and fist bumping my immune system and saying, "we got this". Apparently we don't because what started as "hey I'm sneezing a lot and my throat feels funny" has turned into hell on earth. I'm so mad that this crap couldn't have held off a day and then have unleashed the fury on Sunday, but I guess it is what it is. My throat hurts so bad that I woke up every time I swallowed in my sleep last night, which was basically every 30 seconds. I ache all over and my head feels like someone is squeezing it with all their power. I don't mean to whine, I just hate being sick.
I did get something that was better than 2 dozen roses or the most expensive chocolates in the world...I opened my bedside table drawer and found a package of real Sudafed from the last time I was sick (it's only available up here by prescription, thanks tweakers). Seriously, I felt like I'd found a million dollars randomly stashed in our bedroom. I took one and feel a little bit better as far as the congestion and pressure in my head already. I won't be able to sleep for 3 days and will be terribly dehydrated, but at least I won't be snotting all over the place tonight. I am going to pretty much stay in bed until I'm forced to get up in order to do Eric's makeup and my makeup. I will have no trouble looking like a sad, broken down doll, let me tell you.
At least there will be King Cake at the party, because it truly is the little things.
Speaking of little things, it's amazing when you're sick how the littlest thing is the hugest deal. I dragged myself out yesterday to get pho soup since it was the only thing I could think about that I wanted. I went to this scary ass plaza by our house that is home to a gun store and tattoo shop, but also has a pho place that is decently reviewed on Yelp. I called my order in and it was like a comedy sketch because I can barely talk, and the lady who answered couldn't speak English. Somehow she was able to take my order, and when I got there we pretty much communicated in hand gestures. And sweet lord, that was the best pho I've ever had in my life. If you'd offered me a free meal at a 5 star restaurant in Paris, or an extra bowl of that soup, I'd have taken the soup. I was glad I was alone, because I scarfed that stuff down like a caveman with no manners. I don't know what it is about pho but that stuff was magical and I literally felt high after I ate it. 15 minutes after I finished it I was euphoric, then completely exhausted and went into a coma for an hour. I usually don't nap anymore, but I totally crashed after this. The power of pho baby.
I will post pictures tomorrow of our costumes from the ball tonight. It's going to be a scene. Sorry this post wasn't more eloquent but you know, Sudafed.