The Grippe

Since Friday, that’s what I’ve had – the Grippe. I like this word. I like it much more than “the flu.” It sounds more onomatopoeic afterall. As in, the fucker’s got its claws in me.

Four days of fevers, subsequent chills, aching everywhere – from my eyeballs and eyelashes, to my hair and my teeth – I remained grateful for small favors: it started at the start of the weekend and That Man was in town. He fixed me up with a bagful of over the counter meds and every magazine on the rack. (Here’s what I learned about medicine: they all basically have the same ingredients and they all sell the same thing – false hope. Here’s what I learned from the mags: Angelina = pregnant, Britney = crazy, recession = on its way. But I could be wrong: I am not sure if I was reading or simply dreaming that I was reading.) It was like a lost weekend, without any of the fun of getting lost.

I crawled out of bed today, somewhat surprised to be feeling somewhat normal. Fevers do something weird to hair -- mine is close to dreadlocked again – so I took yet another long hot shower in a lame attempt to 1) wake up and 2) fix hair. The shower worked on neither, but the coffee helped and wrapping the mop into a bun always helps. Picked up the kids and took them all “voting.” (Giant Three Year Old: “we’re going boating?” Us: “no! voting!” Giant Three Year Old: “ahhh man, I wanna go on duh boat.”)

My kids don’t understand the silent ballot – “mom, didya vote for Obama, mom, didya?” – and they don’t understand that small town voting booths are kinda flimsy: they almost took two out in one swift move: it was like a clasped hands dance maneuver but I was not amused. Good thing it was my civic right to be there, kids in tow, or else I’m pretty sure we would have gotten the boot. Plus, I still felt like crap, and I might have back-handed anyone who gave me shit -- “Do you not see that I have THE GRIPPE? I have THE GRIPPE!” Could they possibly have thrown me in jail with that excuse?

Anyhoo, I must be on the mend.