Tongue Stung

Yesterday my tongue was killing me. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it, but it itched as if I’d burned it. The feeling didn’t go away all day. Eating, drinking- everything seemed to irritate it: even water. And my throat hurt.

I thought, with dread, that I might be coming down with something.

The hardest part about the early stages of getting sick is the uncertainty: is it actually a cold or is it just tiredness? Can I fight this off with orange juice and a good night’s sleep or is this going to require me to call in sick? I’m desperately hoping that it is just a phase- because as much as I’d love to spend a day in bed reading books I’d really rather not spend the next few weeks playing catch-up because of it.

So I’m trying to be proactive by writing earlier in the day rather than in the dead of night, but the longer I sit here thinking about it the less I have to say. In another few minutes I’m going to cook some frozen burritos and head out the door to go to campus for my evening class: directing. It’s a class that I like but I worry that I might be giving it short shrift since by Thursday night I’m pretty scatterbrained.

I’m quickly learning that my current schedule requires very diligent pre-planning on the weekends in order to keep myself on track. It was the Super Bowl that got me off track this past weekend: I volunteered to do a presentation on Super Bowl advertising for a class which meant watching the entire game from start to finish (a first for me) and not leaving the couch during the commercial breaks. It was possibly the nerdiest instance of Super Bowl spectatorship that you’ve ever seen: me, sitting alone, watching the big game with a notepad in hand, frantically scribbling notes for three hours. It’s amazing how hard it is to get anything done when you don’t get commercial breaks!

So while I was technically prioritizing and not procrastinating (I did have to watch the game for class after all) I am still feeling the effects of it four days later: particularly as I mined the frozen tundra of our freeze in search of something that I could pack for lunch and/or dinner: thus the burritos.

On that note, I’m going to fire up the microwave and get a move on.


~ by Gwydhar Gebien on February 5, 2015.

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