I Am Not Dead...Yet

I wrote this yesterday but failed to post because I am awesome.

Dear readers,

For those of you wondering if I am living fabulously in some exotic location without internets or hobnobbing with SF elite whilst filming my reality TV show you are mistaken. I am writing to inform you that I am on my deathbed.

Well not literally on my deathbed since I am actually on my fabulous bed with 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets…but I am deathly sick. Well okay, I guess it depends how you “define deathly sick”…to me it means anything from an infected paper cut (gross) to sitting next to a person who coughed with their mouth open (double gross)*. The point? I have a severe cause of hay fever…hhhhheeeeyyyyy**…(I think) brought on from pollen or whatnots (I think) and since I “got married” and “left home” where I had warm loving parents that would dote on me and make me cocido when I was sick, I now find myself alone…all alone tucked in the fabulous sheets with no one to take care of me but myself. *** Le sigh, le sigh.

They always say in the moments like these, when the end is nowhere near, that you begin to take stock of your life. You begin to question if you are a good person and if you done good by those close to you. As I lay here covered in snotty tissues I am taking stock and realizing that my husband is fantastic whereas I…well not so much.

In order to get to where we are going we must first go to where this all began…two weeks ago in the very same loft where I now lay dramatically not dying.

It was Saturday night and I was feeling not alright, but whatever. A few friends decide to come up to SF to visit and since they are celebrating their one-year togetherness anniversary we decide to break out the champers****. One bottle of champers turns into two turns into three turns into let’s go to a club that then turns into bottle service with a magnum that then turns into another bottle of champers…all in less than three hours and amongst four people.

Needless to say that while I saved myself from a hangover that fateful Sunday morning (when you drink too much I find you stop getting these) I did not save myself from a vicious bout of sinusitis or something very similar…awesome. I proceed to stomp around demanding Xtian order me pizza from “that one place D said was good” and then, once I decide pizza will not make me feel better, hop on my non-blackberry smart phone and insist that my parents come see me stat because Xtian does not know how to properly take care of me and they need to bring me cocido…double awesome.

According to Newton’s law of motion***** every action has a reaction. Well my little shenanigans that day enacted a chain of reactions of epic proportions (not really). The week that followed, I manage not only to get both my rents sick…but I also managed to get little Xtian sick. Now what you don’t understand is that when Xtian is sick, the world comes to a screeching halt. Like most guys, they turn into big babies and coddling and attention must be paid at all times.

So here we are, Wednesday of last week and I am on the mend, I take off to work because being physically present is more important than not getting others sick apparently and when I come home I come to find a sulking Xtian…because he is sick. Which means I am now at his beck and call going to Walgreens to buy every medication known to man, making healthy yet nutritious meals that will make him feel better, wearing wireless headphones so I can watch TV and not disturb the peace, making tea, making more tea, and making more tea, you get my drift?
By Friday, I was aching to break free from domestic duties that I hop on a train mid-day and meet the a few girlfriends for wine lunch. I then proceed to go back into the office, hang out until 7ish then go to the grocery store leaving Xtian to fend for himself until 8:30pm. I whip up a quick dinner and proceed to bake…I never bake…just so that I would appear busy and important.

Saturday rolls around and I am up by 8am so that I can head down to the South Bay with D & G (ha ha) since Posh and her hubby were hosting a wine tasting excursion. This means again poor Xtian had to fend for himself whilst sick. After the wine crawl I head to SJ to hang out with my galpals spend the night there. Sunday is spent brunching with Vicky B and Pistol in SJ, reluctantly heading to SF to meet with my tennis pro, then dinner at A’s with lots and lots and lots of wine. Did I manage to ditch Xtian all weekend while he was sick so that I could come that much closer to Betty Ford? Yes, because I am triple awesome. I digress.

Karma is a bitch they say, and I have to agree. By Monday morning I woke up (hang over free again) but with this wretched case of “flu like symptoms” that I immediately blamed on Xtian – never mind that I had gotten him sick previously and it is actually more hey fever. I had to cancel dinner with my beloved YZA at this restaurant I have been dying to go to because now both Xtian and I were both sick, though given my past history that weekend I probs would have gone solo had I not been sick. Lovely. That day was spent mostly in bed for me while Xtian got up (still on the sick side mind you) and took care of me worthy of my mama or papa.

I know that in this blog (and in general I think) Xtian may come across as this work-hard, play-harder, business always comes first kinda guy. But the reality is that he is very sweet and nurturing and does go above and beyond for those he cares about, especially towards me…the spoiled brat he married. So this entire week instead of taking off and working his usual 14 hour days he stays late in the morning to make me tea and comes home early to order me food and tend to my every whim. He covered the upstairs lobby couch with a blanket so that I could lay there whilst watching TV. Speaking of TV, he sat through half an episode of 9-0 and a full Real Housewives because he knows crappy TV will make me better. Tells me I am the prettiest girl in the world even though I know I look like a mess (not even a hot mess) and that he is lucky to have married me…the girl who leaves when he is sick. Lovely.

So here we are on a Thursday night and my allergies are still out of control but at least it is raining so I should be on the mend soon (I hope so because I have a busy week next week with kickboxing, tennis and eating…lots and lots of eating…after all it is the last week of Dine about Town). I am watching Xtian play sweet romantical songs on my “Green iPod”****** and just feel really lucky and in love to have such a great hubby bubby (sorry to induce the gag reflex) and vow to be nice to him more often…and I mean it this time…stop laughing, I do mean it this time.

This post is dedicated to Flex accounts and the pharmaceutical industry.

*I am a crazy hypochondriac and am convinced that I am both SARS and bird flu survivor and no I have never been to high-risk countries.
**You can take the girl out of San Jose…
***And by myself I really mean Xtian who despite being on a cooking strike since the night we were engaged has ordered take-out, washed the dishes, made me tea, et cetera.

****Xtian also finds that days that end in y are good for breaking out champers.
*****Very generally speaking of course and most applicably disturbing that which is thus causing it to change…which is the first law in case you were wondering.
******Green iPod is very especial to me. A gift from Xtian when we were first dating 5 years ago that include the top 1,200 songs of my life…a project that took almost a year to finish.