Me: Would be great to see you too but I’m sick. Sometime soon though.
He: Maybe I could come over and make you feel better. I could bring soup.
Now, before you get all “Awww, isn’t he sweet” let me assure you that this is not really about him nursing me back to health. Rather it is about him trying to get this evening to go the way he wants it to. Not that he’s not sweet but let’s face it, this isn’t love’s young dream.
In any event, there is no way in hell that I’d invite him (or anyone) over today. I am not cute. I imagine that there are some women who get sick in a photogenic way – maybe a little pale with flushed cheeks and all bundled up in matching sweats – but that is SO not me. I am the antithesis of hot right now. I’m sneezey. I’m snotty. I can’t even imagine how many forests worth of kleenex I have literally blown through in the last 3 days. I cannot breathe through my nose, which is not only inconvenient for his plans for the evening but it means that my lips are chapped beyond belief. Also, if I veer from the vertical position my nose runs uncontrollably. Again, so not cute. I have been managing to shower every day, mostly because the steam helps to clear my sinuses. However, I do not have sufficient equilibrium to bend over and shave my legs. Yeah, attractive. As well, my body temperature varies wildly from freezing to sweating throughout the day so despite the shower, I wouldn’t say that I’m the freshest flower in the vase.
And that’s just me. My house is a disaster area. I have been managing to keep up with the disposal of the piles of kleenex but there are tea mugs, magazines and meds strewn all over the place.
So while I appreciate the offer of the soup and the company I’ll give it a pass for tonight and get in touch when I’m feeling better.