It all started Saturday night, after I got home from the Renaissance Festival.
Granted, I was a bit emotional on the drive home because it was my last time there for the season and it might possibly be Hunky and Jeany’s last time getting to go. I took Hunky down to see the joust and had the first of several teary moments watching him watch the horses. That dog has gone with me, without complaint or attitude, to that festival almost every time we were there for the past seven years, and he still looks at the horses like he’s never seen them before. I konw I compare my dogs to children a bit more than those of you with children might care for, but to see that joy on his face just made me cry with happiness.
I got home and could barely breathe. I thought, as you do, that it was due to the aforementioned waterworks, and fell asleep on the sofa (AFTER Torchwood, mind you!). Sunday was worse, I sounded like a little old man who had smoked for 70 years when I tried to talk and breathing through my nose was a joke. Monday I decided that I needed to try and knock this thing OUT rather than go to work, so I called in and then got some sleep.
Too much of it, I’m afraid…those of you that are long time Lettuce readers know about my love affair with insomnia, right? Back with a vengance on Monday night…which actually worked out well, because I knocked out an overnight interpreting assignment in my WIDE-AWAKENESS. As is typical of my best laid plans, the short job ran long and at 3am I got home, emailed everyone I knew at work to say it was 3am and I was going to SLEEP, and then did so.
This morning I was awakened by my furry alarm clocks who regrettably have no snooze buttons. Seriously. Picking up the blackberry that is buzzing like a hornet and accidentally dropping it on the dog does not make him whine any less. Not that I’d know, mind you…
Worked out schedule, agreed to cover 1pm assignment, went back to sleep. Hard sleep. The kind that when it is interrupted by a co-worker on the blackberry it jolts you to a near upright sitting position. Woke up at 11:30am, rolled out of bed and into the shower, threw on a suit, ran a comb through my hair, slapped glasses on my head and began the mad drive south to the assignment.
PS- the cute chunky heeled Mary Janes are only a good idea if you’re awake enough to navigate while simultaneously keeping the back of your trouser leg from sticking under the heel of your foot and causing you to stumble. Otherwise they should be strictly avoided in favor of something that is flat soled and laces.
Back home from the assignment, speak to Simon for a bit, and then fall into another one of those HARD sleeps on the chair. Finally get up and feed the dogs, note that benadryl has worn off and you can still breathe (sorta), and decide that you need to sleep but CAN’T!!!
So what’s causing all my respiratory trauma? One simple word: Mildew. I heard from one of the folks in my group that one of the dog beds used at the festival had mildewed and she had to throw it out. I am SO allergic to mold and mildew.
I suppose that would be why the cold meds didn’t even touch this and the benadryl worked so well there was nothing to make me sleepy?
Ugh. Speaking of…perhaps two will do the trick…