Fully Sick, braaah.

***Disclaimer - I have been struck down with a filthy cold, so anything i write will be tainted by the fact that i feel like i'm trying to access my brain and all my senses from behind a wall of cotton-wool.****


I FEEL LIKE I'VE BEEN HIT BY A TRUCK. And not a friendly truck. A mean truck. And the driver got out and beat me mercilessly with a pool noodle as i lay on the metaphorical road in a pool of mucus. Bleerrgghh. Tissues please.

But no matter. I have been blessed with a week in which to recover before starting my new job, so i intend to take advantage of this time off by being lazy and indoors and consuming lots of tea and soup. I also have kindly housemates who offer up their stashes of echinacea and Sudafed, and check on me occasionally but mostly leave me alone to rest.

I am listening to Art Of Fighting and  i just finished an enormous cup of hot, homemade cold-buster (fresh lemon juice, chopped garlic, grated ginger and a spoonful of honey in hot water). Mmmm delicious and gross.

Have been reading online articles on marriage and divorce, as well as catching up on favourite blogs CakeWrecks  and STFU Parents. I read a little of J's blog, which made me homesick, because it always has photos of friends and fun, familiar things on it. It's her first Vamlumtimes day alone in many years, but she seems to be doing ok. I scrolled back to see photos of last weekend's Multicultural Festival. I saw them briefly on the weekend, too - when i first saw them, on the weekend while at G's house, i had a tiny little tear in my eye - damn homesickness. I don't know why. The Multicultural Festival, or Meat On A Stick day as it's known to Canberrans, has always been a fun thing to visit but i don't go every year. Missing Floriade will hurt. But maybe by September i'll be less homesick. I wrote little homesick messages to J and to A. They'll probably think i was drunk. No i wasn't, just a little sad and sick. (Although maybe a bottle of wine will help me feel better. Hmm...)

I have moments when i miss my friends more than i can bear, and i write stupid sentences about worrying that they'll forget about me and move on while i'm away. But even as i'm writing them i feel silly. Of course they'll move on, of course things will change. Of course friendships will change, new people will come into our friendship group and others will leave. But that's the nature of friendships, and particularly in the group of friends i have. It's made up of so many interlocking circles of friends, people come and go, some people fall out of favour and others become closer. Sure, my broad group will be different when i return. But my close friends will (i hope) remain so, and thanks to Facebook and the occasional emails and letters i receive, i don't feel completely left out. I just miss the spontaneity, the last-minute trips to chocolate or to late-night shopping or to an impromptu party or pub crawl. Sigh. I'm really ok. I'm just sick.