A long time ago I started writing about awkward moments and how I’m really good at spotting them and starting them and professionally dragging them out to uncomfortable lengths. I even called it my super power. I came up with a list of options and ended up settling on Amazing Graceless as my super hero name. Although, honestly, I was also really fond of The Awkwardessa.
It’s not even 8:00 am because Randy is a lot of wonderful things, but he is not a ‘let Michelle sleep in one goddamn Saturday ever in her life’ kind of guy. He built a fire and made me coffee. I’m sitting outside and it’s chilly, but the fire feels good. I had to get a cushion to put on my chair because the chair is still too damp from morning dew to sit on. This is as close to camping as I want to get. The kind where I’m steps away from my own personal bathroom and where Randy is in the kitchen cooking breakfast for me.
We didn’t stay up late last night because I’ve been profoundly tired for about a week now. I decided to go back to my doctor yesterday because it dawned on me that I was well beyond my normal operating levels of tiredness and that probably meant I was dying of something. I was just there a little over a week ago. It would have been nice if this could have held off for a while. I hate going to the doctor and then going right back to the doctor because I think that makes it easier for them to see what a batshit crazy hypochondriac I am. I’m not being hyper-critical of myself. Randy will corroborate this.
Me: It’s either radioactive tick bite or pancreatic cancer.
Doc: We’ve been seeing a lot of radioactive tick bite and pancreatic cancer this week. Only he called the pancreatic cancer something more medical sounding because he’s fancy like that.
Me: I hope it’s the radioactive tick then. I need a new superpower.
Doc: There’s no guarantee you will get a super power. Or it could be a lame one.
Turns out I have a slight ear infection and probably just getting over a kidney infection. No wonder I’m tired. And last week was rough, y’all. I was definitely in the ‘watch every tribute and cry every day over Robin William’s death’ group. I am so sad for him and his family.
He also sent me to the lab so he could test for West Nile, mono and Lyme disease. I’m pretty sure it’s just the infections I have, but that didn’t stop Randy from calling me a cougar. I had mono when I was 38 years old. I can’t begin to describe the amount of grief I’ve gotten over that. And no, I wasn’t hanging around high school football practice when I was 38.
Also, I feel compelled to mention my friend Steph over at We Don’t Chew Glass. She really did get a tick bite and now she’s one of those people you’ve been reading about who developed a meat allergy from these ticks. Steph is hilarious and honest and she gets me right in the feels all the time. Anyway, I didn’t want to be all goddamn flippant about a tick bite without acknowledging that some people are horribly affected by them.
I’m glad I’m not really ill. I am bummed about not getting a new super power. I’d like the hang the awkwardness up for a while and try out invisibility. Or time travel. Or the ability to make people stop talking by winking at them.