There's currently all kinds of stuff swimming around in my head - Lord only knows what's going to come out and whether or not it will make any sense. So consider yourself warned.
It's Sunday night, and I have to say I have had a bad weekend. I got up Saturday, was going to lounge about a bit, take a bath, then head out to do some shopping and meet up with some friends. I got as far as the "take a bath" part, and realized something was definitely not right. I thought perhaps a nap would make me all better. I lay down and sleep for a bit, only to wake up and realize that I am freezing cold. I glance at my clock (with a fancy built in thermometer) and see that it is 29 degrees Celsius and my room, and therefore I should not be cold. Nonetheless, I snuggle up under my quilt, and lay there for a bit. It is sometime around here that reality for me got a bit fuzzy. At some point I realized I had a fever, and probably a pretty good one. I also realized that it was quite important for me to take some medicine for said fever as soon as possible. This realization was immediately followed by an even more disturbing realization that I could neither walk or talk with any real success. I had texted my friend Christine to let her know I wouldn't be meeting her. Being the good friend that she is, she called to check on me. I could only barely talk. She offered to come to my apt. to take care of me if I needed it, and I promised that I would call her if I needed her. After hanging up, I decided to get up, get the medicine (which I thought was near my bedroom door) and go to the restroom. Long story short, the box of medicine near my door was actually empty, and once in the bathroom, I was pretty much stuck. The actual medicine was maybe five or six feet away. I tried to get to it about seven times. I once made it two steps out of the bathroom before my stomach convinced me how absolutely urgent it was that I return to the bathroom. I even tried crawling...but that was a no-go as well. Finally I accepted that I could not get the medicine on my own, and would be happy to settle for getting back to my bed and calling Christine. That took about 20 minutes, with me eventually crawling there.
Christine, being the epitome of all that is "good friend," left her meeting with some other friends, went and bought a thermometer for me, got me a few straws (those were the two things I requested) and came to my aid. I ended up having a fever of 102, that broke shortly after I was finally able to take some tylenol. All I can say is, thank God for friends like Christine. She then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening with me...filling up my water bottle, getting a cool towel to put on my forehead, eventually helping me move to the living room so we could watch a movie together (or really so she could watch and I could continue to be in a state of semi-consciousness), and ordered food that my body could hopefully handle. Honestly, I don't remember the last time I've been that sick. And honestly, if it weren't for her, I'd have been in a bad spot.
Fast forward to today - having spent pretty much 24 hours in bed (but not resting or sleeping well) my body is stiff and sore, but not yet well. I'm all creaky and sore, and still actually not feeling well. Thankfully, I've been able to walk and talk, and therefore consider myself to be doing 200% better than yesterday.
Now that that's settled...allow me to share this with you: I'm really stressed out. I'm moving, possibly two times, in the next 3-4 weeks. We have this three day summer camp (that is a lot less frightening now than before, but still quite daunting), possibly another 6 day camp after that, Peter might be coming to visit Korea for 3-4 days during that second camp, and my animals don't handle change well. Daive freaks out when she sees suitcases and boxes - for good reason, I confess. But moving twice, having to stay with Christine and/or a pet-sitter a lot over the next month and a half is going to be rough on her, me, and my wallet. Add in that I'm not at all packed, I'm currently feeling quite icky, the articles I write for the devotional magazine are due this week (and of course I haven't started), the material for the summer camp workbook is due tomorrow (and is not at all ready, though I know all I want to put in it), I'm probably moving for the first time (and to an as-of-yet undetermined place) this coming weekend, and it's getting far too hot in Seoul to be living without air-conditioning. There you have it. That's how I'm doing. I know it'll all work out and it'll all pass, but right now I'm stressed.
And - and this is for free - I'm hungry. I've eaten pathetically little over the past 36-ish hours, and my body is well enough to be hungry, but not well enough to eat much of anything. AND last night I had a dream that I was walking through a Wal-Mart in the States. My list of foods I miss is quite long, let me tell you, and that dream just fueled the fire. You can imagine my disappointment when I woke up in an extremely hot bedroom in Seoul, with a body that very nearly rejected a Nutragrain bar for breakfast (and that's pretty bland).
So anyway, now - for a change of plans - I'm going to sleep. Back to sleep. Again. I pray tomorrow will be better.