I woke up on Thursday morning feeling weird. Not about life or vegetable prices hitting the roof but weird health-wise. Like hey, jump back, body, you're about to run out of steam on me, aren't you? By evening, at my dinner with the Frenchman, it was less weird and more excruciating pain. At 10:30 pm I hit some sort of wall. I hurried back home with the thought that I'd be much better the next morning. I had to be. I felt dreadful. Very important Friday meeting, don't you know.
I spent the entire night rolling around in bed - freezing to the bone with a throbbing pain - in a fever-induced sleep into which I managed to slink in some incoherent fever-dreams.
I woke up every hour feeling worse than I had before; it became copiously apparent that my superhuman effort at getting to work would not be happening. I rolled out of bed, worn out, at 7:30 am. Dressed up and headed to work.
I sat at work for barely an hour or two, when my body decided to finally break down and I went home. It seemed like a terrible stomach bug. I've been popping pills and I feel better. Except for some bizarre reason, I have difficulty swallowing. I'm kinda hoping that goes away soon.
But once the Frenchman heard about it he proceeded to make his way to my house to see me. And finally meet the parents. It was adorable. All I needed was the man I love, my mum’s awesome remedies and it was a perfect Friday except for the nagging stomache-ache. I fought the good fight the remainder of the day...and night. With any luck, I'll be planting my ass (and the rest of me) in bed soon but before that I want to introduce you guys to this delicious song I came across - ‘Hola’, and it served to pique my interest in the band - The Sunday Drivers. Now that was on Monday. Then they settled on my playlist and jet-setted my world all week long. Pay special attention to the song. It's glorious.
The Sunday Drivers - Hola