Aannnddd Memorial Day weekend comes to a close. No wedding. No Ashville. No zoo. No Holden Beach. The past three days have mainly consisted of spending quality time on the couch because I’ve been so sick. At one point I had a fever of 102.2, and all-in-all I had a fever for more than 48 straight hours. It was fun, let me tell ya.
I caught what Allan had. Yes, I kissed and cuddled him, but I suspect that even without doing either of those things, I would have still wound up in the same position. When I was exposed to his germs, I was still recovering from my oral surgery disaster and, well, my body wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of rihnovirus germs.
Allan has a different theory. He thinks when his illness entered my body, it discovered I was a democrat and mutated into something far nastier than what he had. Allan is a republican. And despite that, I still want to marry him.
Speaking of my future husband, he’s about to go out of town for six days. It’s been well over a year since we were apart for more than 16 hours, so this whole six day thing is making me sad. It’s ridiculous, I know, but I’m really going to miss him. I love him. There aren’t enough words in the English language to properly convey how I feel about him. Simply put, I’m crazy about the boy. And the thought of not seeing him is depressing. Le sigh.
But while he’s in Moab recklessly driving over big rocks in small Jeeps with one of his best friends, I’ll be with my mom. Whee. That there, folks, is fake enthusiasm. We’re having our long-awaited girl’s weekend. The one she’s been promising me for eight years. And rather than be excited, I’m anxious. I’m dreading all the nasty comments, the dirty looks and everything else that comes along with having a mother who never has and never will think I look good enough to be her daughter. You’d think after 30 years I’d be able to shrug it off and not let it get to me, but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. I get hurt quite easily and no one has more power to hurt me than my mother. Well, maybe Allan, but he’s nicer to me than anyone ever has been. Which is reason #4,987,378 I want to spend the rest of my life hanging out with him.