Sunday, October 18, 2009

"Go, Speed Racer!"

Last night was rather perfect, for a Saturday night unexpectedly spent doing nothing much. Shane got home from playing nerd games at a friends' house and said, "I really, really don't feel well." He had a fever and said he ached all over. He also warned me, "I've been kinda surly today, so if I say something mean, I really don't mean it. I just don't feel good." He was quite pleasant, for the most part, and the few things he did say that got on my nerves were meant to be jokes. (And he apologized immediately, saying that I was an absolute angel to take care of him. Girlfriend points, oh yes.) He finally took a nap and I turned on Speed Racer, keeping one ear on Shane. He was talking in his sleep earlier this week and it made me laugh so hard. At the time, it took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on because his eyes were open and he was staring at me. He kept saying, "You need to build another path." Me: "Huh? What are you talking about?" Him: "*Sigh* You need at least six more squares of path to get to me." Me: "Hon, I asked you about dinner. What are you talking about?" Him: "I know what you're talking about. Gosh, you're so stupid if you can't get this. We can only harvest once. The zombies will get to us." Me: "Um, are you sleeping?" Him: "No! Stupid. The zombies will come and get us. You need to build a path." About this point he got up, stumbled to the bed (he'd been sleeping in his computer chair) and fell down, snoring almost immediately. I lost it and had to run into the kitchen so I wouldn't wake him up with my laughing. I told him all about it when he finally did wake up later on. I'm guessing his dream was a mix of FarmVille and Zombieland. So funny. Even him calling me stupid for not getting it. Apparently he won't take any change of subject when he's dreaming about zombies.
So, yeah. We stayed in all night last night. And it was fun. About halfway through Speed Racer I paused it to talk on the phone with my best friend. That surprised us both by being almost a 2-hour conversation, but it was a good one. And we needed it. It's been too long since we really got to talk, uninterrupted, that way.
I've made a bunch of juice and we have tons of leftovers in the fridge, just in case I get sick as well. Although, Shane says he's feeling much better today. His fever seems to have gone away and he's not sore anymore. He's still not great, but way better. I think it helps that he slept until about 3:30 this afternoon, too. I don't know how he can stand doing that. But he has both broomball (he's the captain of the team) and soccer playoffs tonight. I'm going to cheer him on for broomball, since they've got the early game (10:30) and it's against his little brother's team.
I keep feeling like there's just not enough time in the day for everything. The apartment is a mess and, honestly, it's kind of falling apart. The house was built in the sixties, and some of it hasn't been changed since then. Like the oven. When I was on the phone last night I was baking bread and the handle for the oven came off when I went to open it. When I told my roommate he said that the handle to open one of the windows in his room had broken yesterday. Luckily, the window is closed, but if he opened it he would need to close it from outside. This is added to all of our daily mess and the stuff that just never quite seems to get cleaned up. I have neither the time nor the energy lately to really want to do anything about it. Maybe I'm just lazy with the changing of the seasons. Or now that there's stuff for me to do again, I'm choosing fun things over keeping the house clean. Probably that. Oh well.
I have been making time for the gym, though. And I feel so much better because of it. And I made sure to take my dog on long walks this weekend, with plenty of running-in-the-fields time. (We go to one of the fields on campus and I drop the leash so that she can run where she pleases.) I watched her sniffing around the long grass on the sledding hill (still sadly bereft of snow, although it's finally getting colder) and thought, wow. This is what she was bred to do. She actually probably would have made a great hunting dog if I'd been inclined to train her that way. She kept coming back to me, though, and I finally told her, "Silly dog! All this time and space to run and you're sticking by my side? Go play!" It took a lot of urging to get her to budge from my side for more than thirty seconds.

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