I did my best, it wasn't muchEvery singer, including mine, should be forced to cover Hallelujah the way Jeff Buckley covers Hallelujah.
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
His voice is like someone put Freddie Mercury and Nick Drake in a blender and cut it with a cup of heaven.
And I am back from the dead, I think. Yesterday I crashed hard after lunch but thanks to the fact that I seem to be indestructible I couldn't seem to stay down.
Burning up with a fever, I did two loads of laundry (Lying down in between, seriously) and then I cried for Ben to come home early a little, and then I made lunches for today, and then Ben started to yell from downtown to go to bed already and I couldn't because he wasn't home yet so Ruth made tuna sandwiches for dinner with veggies for herself and Henry and Ben walked through the door at seven and I was a mess.
A complete and utter mess, weak and fevered to a crisp. Martyred. Fine, you win, Bridget, you're so tough, now go the hell to bed.
He got me into bed and brought me my beloved orange juice and opened all the windows and I was out. I remember asking about the bugs on my legs and why they were in flames and I also was very fucking pissed off about not getting any dinner (I think he had Captain Crunch. Seriously.) but I couldn't eat anything anyway and eventually the burning went away a little and I woke up to a thunderstorm crashing and I very unsteadily went to the bathroom and then crashed back into the bed and eventually morning came and the fever was gone and the bugs were gone but I feel as fragile as a ghost today.
I wish Ben was home. He always knows exactly what to do and then I feel better.
* * * * * *
The doctor has been and gone. He thinks it's mononucleosis. Lovely. His recommendation? Sleep, Bridget. More than you have been. He also cautioned me not to sleep during the day at all because it would disrupt my sleep at night eventually. So I can thumb my nose at everyone who keeps telling me to take a nap when all it ever seems to do is make things worse.
So there.
Thumbthumbthumb.
*cough*
I will also work on the martyr part. Thankfully it's only an issue once or twice a year. A TANK, I tell you, I'm a tank.