OT — An Early Valentine

It hasn’t been a good week, kids.

I started feeling lousy on Monday afternoon. Nothing definitive, just some nausea and chills. By Tuesday, it was definitely norovirus — a fancy word for the stomach bug. Not the flu, nothing to do with Covid, just that special type of virus that affects the gastrointestinal system and makes you wish that you could die.

Mine wasn’t actually that bad, thank goodness. Mostly a persistent nausea and vertigo (I dragged myself to the market to pick up Pepto Bismol and juice and damn near passed out in the middle of Aisle 5), and pervasive exhaustion (I was taking naps every few hours). Absolutely zero appetite, and everything I tried to eat made me feel worse.

Also, this thing is highly contagious. And reportedly is still contagious for a while even after you start feeling better. So it was looking like I had to stay away from John’s house this weekend, which sucked all to hell and made me sad.

But finally, today, some light. I seemed to have reached the stage this morning where, while I still had no appetite, my body was accepting food more graciously. So I very slowly ate a bowl of cereal and crossed my fingers.

Then it was brought to my attention by a friend that the scrapings at the bottom of the cracker barrel (AKA classless conservatives) were at it again, and had taken shots at me. Sad, really, their obsession with me. I went to investigate. Wow. I must admit that the anti-Semitic tone of this latest batch of barbs was a new and disgusting low. But I suppose nothing should surprise me. There is no bottom to their cesspool of ugliness.

But you know, anti-Semitism is especially revolting, and my poor beleaguered stomach couldn’t help but churn.

Until the doorbell rang unexpectedly, minutes later. It was a floral delivery.

From John, of course. Early Valentine’s Day flowers. Because he knew I needed some cheer. But of course, he had no way of knowing just how perfect his timing was.

My stomach settled. And then I smiled. Because everything was all right. Better than all right. I was well loved. And none of this petty shit mattered a damn. Love conquers hate.

I may have felt like I was at death’s door all this week, but that is temporary. It will pass and I’ll feel better. Overall, I am healthy and vital, I have good things and good people in my life, and there are many more fun and happy times ahead for me. And while the haters continue to offer me free room and board inside their heads, I have no need to live in such a small and ugly place. Too bad, so sad. Sucks to be them. As much as I love being left-leaning (and left-handed), I’m grateful not to be on the left side of the bell curve.

Have a great weekend, y’all. ♥ Stay safe, hug your loved ones, and for the love of imaginary deities, avoid norovirus.

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