I had hoped I could take on 2015 better than I had 2014. But my final two days of 2014 were awful, and carried their awful into 2015. Bad work stuff, my aunt having poor health and being admitted to the hospital, and then my own health plummeting on New Years Eve and ruining my writing date (more on that in a moment), all contributed to one of the worst transitions into the New Year.
New Years Eve health junk was particularly bad. I went from a general not feeling so great, to shaking because I was so cold, to vomiting in the bathroom at work, and then delirious the rest of the night, with my mom and brother trying desperately to either get my fever down or to get me to agree to go to the hospital. Neither worked out, really, since I refused to do anything but burrow beneath a billion blankets and pass out randomly. They finally got me to drink and hold down fluids around midnight (Happy New Year! Drink your Sprite.) I refused to eat for well over 24 hours, and even then I barely ate anything. All I’ve had today is a piece of toast, and I wasn’t too excited about that.
I still feel pretty awful, and everyone is pretty well in agreement that I should see an oncologist (*gulp*), especially with my lymph nodes being crazy, and my liver being gigantic. I don’t drink or anything, so I know that alcohol has nothing to do with my liver. I guess we’ll see what fun health misadventures await me this year.
My sad, ruined New Years writing date with Taylor obviously was shot, as I mentioned, by my sickly meltdown. ‘But what is this writing date?’, you may be wondering. Well, Taylor and I have come up with a story idea. Something I’d like to see turned into a novel. He has a brilliant mind and should honestly write books, be a professor, make movies, and a million other things because he is, in fact, that amazing. But anyway, we had planned to have dinner, watch movies, and rough out some plot and a game plan for this book. I’m hoping I feel well enough to reschedule for this weekend.
Besides, it looks like 2015 is going to be a bumpy road. Maybe all the sudden bad at the end of 2014 was the Universe, yet again, screaming at me to refocus my priorities. I’d like to think that. I can imagine the Universe having a tantrum, yelling: “Alright, I’ve had enough of your shit! You have more important things to be thinking of. More important work to be done. NOW GET TO IT.”
The Universe has given me my ultimatum: Get your shit together, write, and take care of yourself, or die miserable and ignore your purpose. But how this ultimatum was presented is still scary to me. I can’t go into much detail at the moment, but let’s just say it’s 95% likely I will have A LOT of writing time on my hands in the coming months.
Anyway, that’s it for now. I’ll have more things next week I’m sure.
Until then,
Angel
Misadventures of a Misfit 