How Do You Feel..?

I’ve been happily taking medication for a few days to get rid of a problem which of course, got much worse.  By today, I figured I’m having a reaction so have ceased taking the drugs – but that left me with the original problem.  Not severe enough to seek out a doctor on a Saturday eve, but enough to make me feel decidedly crappy for the day.

Saturday usually consists of sport.  Cricket has finished up for Christmas so we would have had the day off but the squeeze was brow beaten into taking number three kid to a course for epi pen injection.  I could have given him the instructions in three sentences, but that sure as hell wasn’t going to be good enough for the harridan.

I will point out here that I am anaphylactic so it isn’t as though I don’t know what I’m talking about; and no one needs a three hour lesson on an auto inject pen – you push it to the thigh… Any fool could do it – so I guess he could.

So although I would generally have felt annoyed as he pranced off like a moodle for an utterly pointless afternoon; I figured I’d go to bed for a few hours and rest up since we are going out for dinner this evening.

We actually don’t go out very much.  Our combined phobias mean it has to be something good to drag us out.  I suspect his is worse than mine, because every so often I think if I have to sit and watch him watch tv for another second, I’ll pitch something at his stupid head.  When the kid is there – it is double whammy. 

So off he prances and I go to bed for the afternoon; already I can feel the original problem (which didn’t go away with the drugs, I just copped more symptoms); but the secondary stuff began to recede.  So I get up, have a shower, get dressed; actually put makeup on and start to feel almost human.

We are dining with two couples.  One I have met, one I am yet to meet; but they do sound like my kind of people so I am looking forward to it.

Half way through my makeup, the squeeze calls to ask: “how do you feel?”

At first I thought ‘how sweet’, but as the conversation progressed, I realised what he really wanted was to mooch out of the night.  If I was still as sick, or sicker, he could have stayed home to “hang” with the kid!

So now I am about to walk out the door with some fricking moodle who has tried to make a three hour session of ‘nothing’ sound like it was worthwhile; and knowing that his preference for the Saturday evening, was to stay at home in front of the TV with the kid!

Going to be a real good night; I can tell already.