Day 46. The day my body tried to kill me. (Arezzo)

I can handle stress very well. Physical, mental, emotional. I can take it. I can sleep in awkward, cold places, I can not sleep, I can carry heavy things, I can handle being alone and lost and an assortment of things. I wear manwear. But, as soon as I don't have to do these things, as soon as I have time, and not really any responsibilities, and I can do... nothing. That is when my body attacks. It is nothing less than a full-fledged assault on myself. I'm not sure how it knows, but it always does. And perhaps I should be grateful, maybe my little body just hangs in there through all the tough stuff until it knows I can take it. That's just me giving me the benefit of the doubt.

This was that day. I woke up to the morning Derk attack, and immediately knew something was wrong. Skin. Hurt. Joints. Ache. Muscles. Ow. Everything. NO. But, of course, I refused to acknowledge it. No, I thought. I'm wearing manwear. I just... did... a lot yesterday? Maybe it was the food. In my full denial, I strolled down to the store. Jesse was going to be back, and I had not properly stocked the freezer with Magnums yet. Unfortunately, I forgot that it was Sunday. If you have ever been to Italy, you know that Italians just don't like to work. Any excuse at all, and they will close shop. They are closed on Sundays. Many shops are closed on Mondays. Or Wednesdays. Heck, even on Thursdays. They close in the afternoons. They close early on Fridays. They need their naptime. I can definitely appreciate these life philosophies, except when it is Sunday, and I NEED ICE CREAM. Upset and magnum-less, I slowly trudged back up the maliciously steep hill, stopping only to console myself with this

And, for some reason, to take a picture of this. I don't really know why. I was a little delirious. I think I liked the skirt or something. And the cardigan. Somebody buy me this.











So today consisted mostly of me wallowing in self-pity on the couch, trying to watch Venture Brothers and feed myself with the little bits of food I had, not having been able to restock at the grocery store. Jerks. I also desperately surfed the net for any grocery store that would be open, for some reason thinking I would be physically able to walk the 5 kilometers and then back not only without collapsing, but at a speed that would not melt the ice cream in the furnace that is Arezzo right now.

Thank goodness I fell asleep before finding out that that store was actually open. Thank. Goodness. I also found out that Pers loves nap time. I had pulled out my sleep cover/sheet, mostly to keep the conniving mosquitoes out, and she went NUTS. Then we spooned. It was a very special moment for us.

I woke up, and I was in that warm embrace of semi-consciousness. I wandered back out into the streets of Arezzo, and- SUCCESS! Although I did not find magnums, I did find some fancy sort of ice cream bars. I think the man who sold them to me thought I was buying a bag full of ice cream bars for only myself, and I would have been insulted had it not been such a feasible thought.

With a new sense of accomplishment, I headed back, and finished my vegging. It was then that I realized how awesome I am. Both body and self. I had made a seemingly full recovery, in less than a full day. My body had tried to kill me, and I had beaten it into full health. I credit my healthy diet of Milka Slurp and fancy ice cream bars. Thanks me, for being so great.