Lately I’ve been really excited about getting a new apartment with Brian this spring. I get all giddy and stuff when we check out potential “homes” (um, 400-square-foot rentals) online, and it’s fun that we’ll have a place together that’s really ours.
Naturally before you move in with someone, you should make sure you’ve discussed the basics and that you’re really, truly comfortable with each other. So you know: Figure out how you’ll split the rent, decide who will do which chores, agree that only one of you is responsible for cooking and the other will do all the cleaning. Stuff like that.
And yes, be as comfortable as possible around each other. Get everything weird and awkward out of the way before you shack up.
That is why I decided to spend last night both on the toilet and vomiting into the sink (ugh, yeah, kind of simultaneously…), and then returning to bed in hysterics, shivering and then sweating.
THAT is why. For the relationship.
Because now, even after two Crohn’s flare-ups and a scary sighting at mile 22.5 of a marathon, I can officially say Brian has seen me at my absolute worst.
Last night was rough. I hardly slept at all. I rested all day yesterday and never spiked a fever, so I figured I was getting better. I ate a few bites of food for dinner, which is a massive improvement. And then at 1:44 AM, that dinner came back to haunt me, and I hated it.
It was a rough hour, and I was pissed about losing sleep and frustrated that I’m resting and hydrating and I’m still feeling ill. I really needed to get back to the office today, but when I took my temperature at 3:30 AM and it read 102.4, I knew another sick day was more likely than a day at my desk.
So yet again, I am blogging from bed. I haven’t been outside since Saturday.
But I will be venturing out later, because after four days with a fever and puking problems, I figured it’s time to finally see a doctor.
Now let’s talk about crying and tears and sadness.
I am a happy person. You know that by now, right?
Even right now, I can see plenty of positive in my sickly situation. Yeah, it sucks that I’m all gaggy and poopy and spending way too much time in the bathroom. But on the plus side, I’m finally spending a lot of quality time with my apartment before I move out! Turns out, this place gets a ton of natural light during the day! Also a plus? I was able to read a book, and that was special. I never have time to read!
There’s something about being really sick that makes me cry. Actually, it’s not so much just “being sick” as it is “projectile vomiting.” Throwing up makes me cry every single time. I get that trait from my mom. She is probably so pissed that I’m going into all this detail about throw-up, because she hates it. She can’t talk about it, can’t think about it and definitely can’t see it. And if she has to puke, she cries.
Throwing up isn’t the only thing that makes my eyes sweat, which is what I tell Brian is happening when I cry at not-sad movies like Crazy, Stupid, Love. Yes of course I would shed many tears over death or world wars or poverty and such. But let’s take it down a few superficial notches and talk about really heartbreaking things, like TV shows and movies!
Now, here is a list of 6 Other Things That Always Make Me Cry:
- Sarah McLachlan and her damn ASPCA commercials. These things are the most God-awful, tragic commercials on the planet and they always come on without warning. I’ll be watching a hilarious episode Full House or something, all content because Michelle isn’t grounded anymore, and then BAM! McLachlan starts singing about the arms of an angel, and those sad puppies and kittens stare directly into my eyes, begging for adoption. These commercials are unfair because they show up unannounced. There’s no “The following commercial has been approved for stone-cold-hearted people only,” or “This commercial is not suitable for emotional 26-year-olds who are home sick for the day.” But yeah, I donate almost every time, so I guess the commercials are working. Damn you, McLachlan. Damn you.
- Denny dying on Grey’s Anatomy. I haven’t watched this show in years, but I was obsessed in college, and the Season 2 finale is the worst. You see Izzy in that ridiculous pink taffeta gown that she somehow secured while on duty at Seattle grace in a mere 30 minutes. Yeah I get that it was “hospital prom” or whatever, but I thought she looked a bit silly. She gets off the elevator and Denny is a corpse. And then she lays on him and she cries and that “Chasing Cars” song is playing, which, by the way, I cannot listen to now, solely because of this episode. But then Izzy went crazy and the show got bad, so I guess it’s all OK.
- Jim and Pam’s wedding on The Office. These are happy tears, though. Every time. When Jim cuts his tie, and then later when they escape to get married on the ferry, and at the end when Jim says his original plan was to “marry her a long time ago.” It’s precious. Downright precious.
- Hearing my dad’s voice when I’m upset. Whether I’m stressed or sick or sad, when I hear my dad’s voice I turn into a mess.
- The movie Stepmom. They may as well have called this movie “Fall In Love With Every Character, Especially The Cute/Charming Little Boy, And Then Watch Susan Sarandon Die Just As You Started To Really Like Her.” When it’s Christmas morning and Susan Sarandon is giving her kids their gifts individually, and she gives the little boy his magician’s cape, it’s like, Why, Susan Sarandon? Why did you have to do that, because now you are going to die and the world is filled with sadness.
- My Sister’s Keeper, both the book and the movie. Why does this piece of literature (slash film) even exist? Oh right, to make even the most emotionless people weep. A few notes to make on this one: First, my old roommate, we call her Conroy, never used to cry at anything. One day I was like, “Let’s go see this movie with Alec Baldwin and Cameron Diaz, OK?” Well let’s just say that about 15 minutes into the film, stoic old Conroy was blubbering into her Chicken McNuggets napkins. She’s a vegetarian now, by the way. Second point: I read the book before I saw the movie, which is the way to go. I remember reading the book on the train from New Haven to Grand Central (yeah, that used to be my daily commute) and sobbing uncontrollably when I got to the end (which, by the way, is completely different in the print and film versions). I wasn’t even embarrassed. I was devastated because fiction is real!
Do you know what doesn’t make me cry? The Notebook. Sorry, I know that’s supposed to be like, “the saddest thing ever.” I cried the first time I saw it, but I’m pretty sure that’s because I was going through a very dramatic (not at all dramatic) college breakup, so I was projecting my feelings onto Ryan Gosling. After that my emotions were put to better use falling in girl love with Rachel McAdams and her pretty hair.
Also, I haven’t run or exercised or broken a non-fever-induced sweat since Thursday. I’m not counting Saturday’s sad run attempt. This is the longest I’ve gone without a good workout in, um, three years? I actually think I’m handling it very well. Pat on my back.
Off to work on feeling better! Ready, set, hydrate!
AND YOU KNOW I WANT TO KNOW: What always makes you cry?