Sick and tired: literally and figuratively.

So...I've been severely slacking in updating lately. I know. And I'm sorry. I have blogger's guilt.

I spent the entire weekend and all of yesterday feeling total crap. No, that's wrong...feeling like death itself. Andi and I went to some friend's apartment to grill out on Friday night, and as such I ate a big fat steak. Ew. Yes, I know. But everyone else was doing it -- why couldn't I? So I did. Anyway, early Saturday morning sometime I woke up feeling really nauseous and achy. But it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I feel nauseous most of the time. Achy is my middle name. Later that morning I woke up and subsequently made the toilet my home for the weekend. To make matters worse, Andi was at a web design conference all day Saturday, so I had no help whatsoever wrangling the little guy (monster). I wasn't able to eat all day. Sunday I felt even more terrible, but I still had to get up and make deserts (banana pudding and peach cobbler) for the Presbyterian Women's Retreat Planning Committee Potato Luncheon Fundraiser. Any other time, I realize it may be a bad decision to cook for the masses while feeling ill. I mean, who wants to get everyone sick? I really don't think I had a virus though. I think it was just my good ol' gallbladder acting up on me. Sure, my doctor mentions once "We should really think about having it removed..." And that was the extent of the thinking. I obviously still have it. I knew I was long over-due for an episode. It'd been a good four months or so since my last bout of toilet hugging. Generally I get them every two months or so...If not more.

Alas, yesterday I was finally able to start eating some solids without them coming back up again.

Now Adrien's sick. I noticed he was wheezy on Sunday. It hasn't gotten any better. His nose is runny...nasty green goo. So he has an appointment first thing in the morning. Generally I'm not one to run straight to the doc for this sort of thing unless I suspect ear infection...but he can't breath well. His Xopenex (or whatever for his breathing treatment) is not working. On top of it, I know he must be feeling under the weather. He layed down for a nap today at 10am. That's unheard of. Yesterday he took a short nap at 11, and then another 2 1/2 hour nap around 4pmish. He hasn't taken two naps a day in I don't know how long. Poor baby.

All of this, and oh darn: I was supposed to leave to go to my mom's house today. Tomorrow is her birthday, and a mutual friend of ours gave her the grand notion of: well why doesn't Bryany come to see you on your birthday? I mean you go to see her on her birthday all the time! Thanks. A lot. Now I've gotta drive four hours to stay at my grandfather's house with his new wife (who I'm sure means well, but is all in all odd and homely). Not to mention the fact that I've gotta drive four hours with a toddler in the back seat, most likely screaming the entire way. But -- great sigh of relief -- we've been sick. So, for now, our embarkation is saved for later. Depending on what the doctor says about Adrien's condition in the morning, possibly saved for much later. I do kind of want to see my Mom on her birthday though. Oh well. That's life.

As I'm guzzling Gatorade and Ginger Ale, I'm thinking of all the things I need to get done today. My husband's contacts need to be picked up from the optometrist's office. I need to deposit some checks into our accounts. I need to get my Mom a birthday present. So many things, and I don't feel like doing any of them. I have to though. I've been out of commission since Saturday and have merely been living from couch to toilet and back for so long that everything is a jumble. The kitchen is in shambles. There are mountains of unfolded (yet clean) laundry on my bed. There are toys everywhere. Bits and pieces of life strewn about waiting to be tidied up. Yet, I still feel slightly like crap. I guess not eating for three days takes its toll on you. Woman was not meant to live on Gatorade and Ginger Ale alone. I really need to see the doctor about this problem (and others), but It's such a pain to go to the doctor with Adrien. He runs around and messes with all the magazines and periodicals and touches everything and gets God-knows-what on his little paws. Germs. Everywhere. Not to mention the fact that he really loves the trash cans they have at doctor's offices. You know, the ones where you step on the lever and the top pops up. Absolutely fascinating.

Then, there's Andi. I feel like he's so distant lately. I don't know what the deal is. After spending most of our vacation (I know, still yet to be blogged about) at his parent's house, I just feel like we're two separate people living in the same space. No cuddling. No kissing. No sweet nothings. No nothing. Nothing. I am so lonely. When I confronted him about it last night his excuse -- at first -- was that I'd been sick. It was something like this:

You've been sick.

I've been sick since Saturday.

Okay, well before that you were on your period.

It's been a lot longer than that. I'm lonely. You don't cuddle with me. You don't make out with me. I don't feel like I'm loved.

Ugh.

I mean, I know you love me. I just don't feel that way.

I don't know. I just haven't been in the mood for anything lately.

Okay, my husband not being in the mood for sex is like a polygamist not wanting another wife. It's unheard of. And it's not just sex I'm talking about. I mean, I could soooo do without that. It's not sex that I'm wanting. I'm wanting him to want to be in the same room with me longer than 10 minutes without finding the need to balance the checkbook or check his email...or work on one of his many websites. Even more frustrating: mow the lawn. I mean, is it really more fun to want to mow the lawn than it is to spend like fifteen minutes with me. And I'm not talking about spending time as in you sit zoned out in front of the The Simpsons after work while I cook in the kitchen or run around after Adrien. I'm not talking spending time as in, me being mommy and you in the office working on your websites. That is not spending time. Would it kill you, say, if you just sat on the same couch as me -- as opposed to the loveseat when I'm on the couch? Or the floor when I'm on the loveseat. What about giving me a real hug and kiss when you get home from work. I get so freakin' sick and tired of you coming home, going straight to the bathroom, then out to kinda say hi to Adrien, then to check the mail, and then to the TV...me to the kitchen. I'm so tired of it! Because after that, we play the wait for Adrien to go to bed game, and by the time that's over it's nearly time for us to go to sleep. Then we do go to sleep, we get up, and do the whole charade over again. I'm sick and tired of being lonely. I need all that crap. And I'm sooooo sorry if your job is stressful. Do you think mine isn't? Do you think giving yourself to other people all day long all week long isn't a stress? Well it is. I don't care! I know your job is stressful....It's corporate: It sucks, okay. But you didn't promise to love me until your job got stressful, did you? I didn't think so. You promised to love me forever. Where's the freakin' love at? Because if you don't give me some, I think I'm going to have a meltdown.

Sorry about that, guys. He does occasionally read it. Maybe he'll get the hint.