why you probably shouldn’t blog with a kidney infection

For the last two weeks or so (or is it three? I’ve honestly lost count. Maybe it’s even four. Anyway, feels like forever), I’ve been rendered helpless and lame with a kidney infection.

It sucks. It really, really sucks.

Aviary Photo_130301665486463400After a round of antibiotics, it was getting better but I was still so tired that I felt like I’d possibly died and entered purgatory. And then the infection came back. Seems it never actually went away. My kidney is like Captain Brody on Homeland: I don’t know if it’s really with me or against me.

In addition to my brain turning to mush, I’ve been back and forth from work so much that I’m sure they’re really irritated with me. I’m not even sure if I can still picture my co-workers faces.

As such, I’ve been completely out of the literary composition loop and haven’t written a damned thing. This is probably for the best. The following is a list of potential blog articles I may have written in the last few weeks had I the wherewithal to find a keypad.

So You Think You Know What It’ll Be Like to Be Eighty: Ear plugs, night lights, and other tips for going to bed at eight o’clock.

I Shall Call You ‘Little Eva’: What the cute cat in the window next door is doing today.

Browsing the Kindle Store: Just because neither the book nor the payment were in paper doesn’t mean it didn’t cost money.

To the Doctor’s and Back: Soon to be a three-film trilogy directed by Peter Jackson.

What do you mean We’re out of #@*%ing cranberry juice!?

Garlic Sausage: Is it the most versatile of the ready-to-eat deli meats?

or, Garlic Sausage: Will it really improve that frozen pizza?

Loungewear Chic: How to make an old t-shirt and sweatpants look like they’ve been washed sometime in the last week.

The Documentary Channel: How two hours about East German cars is the best of daytime TV.

Let me tell you about this weird dream I had…

Once Upon a Time is a great show to watch while sick: Discuss. (This post would just have been a cheap way for me to brag that I’m getting married in Steveston Storybrooke.)

Being Sick and Cranky: A great way to test a loved one’s devotion.

Et tu, Ron Swanson?: Although it might be eeriely similar, watching Parks and Recreation is not the same thing as going to work.

Rear Window Revisited: Is there anyway to point binoculars out your window and NOT seem creepy?*

The Four Steps to Planning a Wedding Without Leaving the Couch or Using Your Brain: 1. Cut out paper hearts and staple them to pieces of twine; 2. Cry;  3. Call your mother; 4. Delegate everything to the groom.

Kidney Infections Suck: Trust me, pee after sex and drink lots of cranberry juice.

Just trust me, seriously. Kidney infections are the Britta of all infections.

__________________

*Seriously, I need to know.

six signs I have moved past that weird ‘extended youth’ phase into the realm of “real adult”

1. My home has entered levels of cleanliness never before imagined or aspired to. I am well and truly becoming my mother (who, but a mere twenty-five years ago, became her mother.)

2. When I get an injury or illness there is very palpable fear that it will never truly go away. Just one little ankle sprain means I will forever and ever after for all my days refer to my right foot as “my bad foot.” I now have to drink cranberry juice because I have increased chances of kidney stones. Fuck you, aging body, fuck you.

Aviary Photo_1303017714573566873. I can no longer connect with the youth of today and I don’t care. This might seem like a cliche way to realize you’re getting old, but my lord if it isn’t a doozy. It’s become apparent to me recently that the dominant youth “generation” of today are the Millenials, and by gosh, I ain’t one of them. I exist in that strange netherspace between them and Generation X. We are the lost socks of a shifting zeitgeist.

4. All I really want to do all day is read and write. Is that so bad? Honestly?

5. I am getting married (to Boy Roommate Friend) and I’m okay with that. “The rest of my life” doesn’t scare me anymore because at this point “the rest of my life” is only about fifty years (at best), so what’s another fifty years wandering this endless plain of life? Tis but peanuts compared to the eternity that has already stretched behind me. Alas.

6. I am getting married (to Boy Roommate Friend) and I’m okay with that really happy about it. I’m honestly stoked. Ignore the drole irony of #5. My point was that I no longer fear commitment, because I no longer doubt who I am or who I will be. It’s been a journey but I’m finally at a point where all that desperate navel-gazing is done and over with. I know who I am now. I know what kind of life I want. I know who I want to be with. Sure it’s not going to be sugar-coated sweetness all the time, but it’s still going to be pretty awesome because I feel old and wise and totally zen.

Take that, Twenty-Something Ashleigh, take that.