On Friday, the doctor told me that what I have is viral and that I just need to ride it out, probably a few more days. Well, it’s Monday, and I’m still not well. I truly hate this, whatever it is. On the flip side, the nurse who took my stats told me that I logged the best blood pressure all day: 98/62. I appreciated what Dave would call an “I win” moment. Damn right I win. In this pitiful state, I will grasp onto every last victory that I can.
It was a rough weekend for the most part. I learned that the wedding industry is vicious and largely unwilling to relinquish deposits, even those they’ve only held for a few weeks. So people, take note. Don’t book a DJ or anything else if there is the slightest possibility that you might change the date or change your vision or whatever. They are heartless, which increases my desire ten-fold to have an anti-wedding wedding. Mine will be a DIY everything (except for the delightful vendors who willingly refunded our money), even if that makes everything harder. I’d rather lose blood, sweat, and a boatload of tears than feed that relentless industry another dime.
On a more positive note, I read a really good book while I was cooped up at home this weekend. I read Roxane Gay’s collection of essays called Bad Feminist. I picked up the book because Roxane is a classmate of mine from boarding school. I didn’t know her well, but I’m always curious about what people in my circles are doing, especially in the writing world. What a voice! She comments on sexuality, reproductive rights, race, pop culture, domestic violence and so much more. She writes simply but thoughtfully, and she didn’t make me laugh necessarily, but she did make me think, “Yes, that’s so true!” more times than I can count. I need to get my hands on her novel. I want more.
I still haven’t exercised a bit since a week ago Sunday. Tonight, I’m missing a writing group because those women don’t need to be exposed to me in my current state. I don’t know if I’ll be well enough to run with my friends tomorrow, but I really hope so.
Mostly though, I’m just grumpy. Consider yourself warned.
Update: My mother corrected me on my characterization of the wedding industry. Turns out that everyone she dealt with directly gave us refunds. Two of the three people I booked myself were the only ones who didn’t. So I take back most of what I said, and I add to it that my sweet mother has a better way with people than I do.