I was feeling perfectly fine and then I wasn’t. The Unforeseen Demon of Surprise Illness paid me a visit for a few nasty hours on Monday evening. During that period I completely lost my breakfast, lunch, several pieces of dark chocolate covered edamame, a few handfuls of some crunchy crap I scarf at my desk called Oriental Mix, a fig bar, and two glasses of a Happy Hour Cabernet I quaffed after work with my buddy Coco.
During this episode of violent evacuation I coincidentally lost interest in everyone and everything that gives me pleasure. The list includes (in no particular order) writing this blog, shooting pictures, sex, food, alcohol, comedy, tennis, dogs, Gotham City wildlife, The New Yorker, music, movies, theater and film. To put in perspective how incredibly lousy I felt, if all four Beatles would have magically appeared in the center of my sanctum sanctorum to personally serenade me, I would have slammed the bathroom door in their Fab Four faces and groaned:
Me: Go away!
The next morning I woke feeling feverish with a pounding headache, wondering, “what the hell was that about” regarding a hallucination I suffered prominently featuring a bullwhip. I am not by nature the violent type. The last time I fired a rubber band, several years ago, it hit a wall and ricocheted into my forehead. Wow, did that sting. Once fully conscious I emailed my boss Elsbeth that I was taking a sick day for I was feeling like shit on a stick. Possibly I used the phrase “I’m feeling sub-par” instead.
I continued to rest but I quickly caught cabin fever and needed a fix of daylight. I also needed to run an errand for bland foodstuffs. As I walked up my block I noticed the now infamous Tree Decorated with the Hanging Trash. Here are updated photos.
The tree is starting to bud and as pictured below, both bags are in full bloom and still flipping off Mother Nature.
It appears that rain is in the forecast for later in the week so she’ll very likely have the final say about the presence of these two eyesores. They’ll probably blow into my open window for refuge. Hopefully I’ll be back to feeling groovey by then. Stay tuned.