Guy and I had a wonderful time in Vegas. We rented a convertible and promptly got forehead sunburns driving around Death Valley, where we toured Scotty's Castle and the Ubehebe Crater. We spent a lovely night at Scarlett's and met The Cowboy, of whom we approve. (Not that it matters--Scarlett will do what Scarlett will do, but we thought he was an excellent, happenin' dude who is the yin to her yang, the boot to her spur...or whatever equestrian metaphor works best here.) We had a great time at the various shows we saw on the Strip (Absinthe was FANTASTIC, and Elaine Boosler is still funny after 20+ years on the stage), and the food was glorious.
We got back to Denver, and Guy had to immediately turn around and fly to a meeting on the East Coast for two days. Howie and Bosley were both out of the office most of the week, so I spent the week doing quiet catch-up work, which was sorely needed. It was a great week, and I was ready to meet with Howie and Bosley on Friday to get back into the swing of things, when--
Bleecchhhh.
Someone short and pesky awoke at 4am with either food poisoning (from her beloved Chipotle!) or a 24-hour stomach bug/flu/crud. I wasn't able to keep water down until 11am. I mean, heaves so bad that I was thinking Okay, my stomach is definitely empty, there can't be anything left and then another volume of fluid would come out, and I'd yell in my head Where the hell did you find that at? What, were you saving it? It left me absolutely spent to the point that on Friday, I literally only had three saltines and a bowl of chicken noodle soup at 6pm. I ate some bland stuff on Saturday and did nothing. I mean, nothing. Well, I worked on some writing on my laptop for a couple of hours, but that was it. Nothing. I slept a lot and didn't drink enough water, but that was it.
I lay there on the futon, looking at Guy, pitifully. He got up from the computer and came over and spooned me, saying, "I think I need a nap."
"I think you do too," said I. "I'll take one with you."
We were quiet for a bit as college basketball ran quietly on the TV. "Guy?"
"Hm?"
"Is this what every Saturday is like for you? Just doing nothing?"
"Yeah. Feels good, doesn't it?
"Yeah, it does."
"Yeah, it does."
3 comments:
Pixie, I'm so sorry to hear you've been sick. Hope you're much improved now. Thinking of you...
we lurves you here at Casa de los gatos y baxter dawn y ahora el gringo caballero tambien.
Sorrys you were sickage! That is the PITS. Being a total control freak, I hate hate HATE throwing up. So when I am, its like a double whammy - physically sick, and then mental anguish of not being in charge of my body and having it tell me in such a violent fashion where I can go shove my control freak nature.
Loved having you here. Cowboy thinks you guys are cool.
Bdawg misses you, as does the kittehs who have gone back to their pathos of being neglected.
also, Guy has my kind of saturdays. its very Martha Stuart.
i come see you soonest.
-Scarlett
EPIC LULZ! See wat Guy & I have been saying? Doing NUFFIN is AWSUM! It's a sign from Bastet!
Bastet is trying to tell you something, butt (!) ur nawt listenin. So she makes you listen. Bastet's not the nicest deity, but she noes wat yu needz. >^..^<
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