I Know I'm Sick When...

• I wake up at 10:30 and think it's only 7:00.
• Food tastes like chunky air. And requires way too much effort.
  
• Horribly horrible movies like "Must Love Dogs" distract me.
• My only writing idea is stolen directly from a movie.
• I operate in a zombie state, disinterested in both sleep and consciousness.
• Information refuses to stay in my head.
• I fantasize about breathing.
• Tissues (of all brands) are my bestest friends in the whole world.
• I justify this sort of nothingness as a blog post.

Goodnight, Moon.

Blah.

I slept for 13 hours last night.

I thought I had kicked it. There was a moment of mental clarity this afternoon, of revisiting energy.

And then it hit me again.

I just want to sit here. And stare into space. My bed is too far away to bother considering sleep.

I'm pretty sure it's a strain of mono that squeezes your head until you hate anything related to "doing." Because I crave nothing. A whole lotta nothing. Or it's the flu. In junior form.

Instead of Guinness tomorrow, I should raise a glass of green Triaminic.*

*Green Triaminic is the vile liquid that incited a rather violent outburst by a 5-year-old Nadine once upon a time. Sorry, Mom, for kicking and screaming. I couldn't help it. I'm pretty sure turpentine tastes better.

Oh, and according to the Triaminic website, I should be staying home from school. Good to know.

The Last Lecture

I stayed home sick on Thursday and Friday. Hence the midday blog postings. And while it was a little boring (daytime television sucks the life out of you), it was also restful and productive (in the health-rejuvenation department). Oh, and I discovered I really like soup. I should eat it more often. Or drink it. Hmm. I'll stick with "consume."

I also discovered that I let my guard down a little more when I'm feeling under the weather. I cry when watching House. Seriously. I'm moved by story differently. And I think it's healthy to be a little more vulnerable.

Wednesday night, as I was contemplating calling in sick the next morning, I caught the last few minutes of Primetime with Diane Sawyer. And I cried. So Thursday, while congested and bored, I looked up "The Last Lecture" on YouTube and cried some more.

"The Last Lecture" is typically a lecture series in which profs give a hypothetical deathbed lecture. They give the lecture they would give if it were their last. In the case of Randy Pausch, however, it really was his last. Diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at 47 and given three to six months of good health left, the computer-science prof gave a brilliantly inspiring final lecture to a packed lecture hall at Carnegie Mellon. This was in September. The videotaped lecture quickly became an Internet sensation (thanks to a short article in The Wall Street Journal), his simple talk about childhood dreams sparking something in viewers worldwide.

He's still alive, upbeat, and intent on capturing his life and creating memories for his kids. He knows he's leaving a legacy through his work. I'd argue that his lecture is now probably contributing to that legacy. A book version of his lecture is coming out shortly.

I'm a little envious of his passion. I'm not even a virtual-reality kind of girl, but I'd do my MET (Masters of Entertainment Technology) with him in an instant. Actually, were it not for financial concern, I'd be tempted to pursue higher education at the Entertainment Technology Center he co-founded. Because I love the idea of retaining childlike wonder. I think empowering others to pursue their childhood dreams is an incredible dream of its own. Because valuing individual skills and combining different artistic disciplines in new media sounds like a healthy way of learning to exist in a world where everyone brings something different to the table.

I know it's long, but if you have the time, check out Randy's last lecture. You'll probably cry by the end. And that's perfectly okay. It won't be a depressing cry.



P.S. Diane Sawyer made sure his NFL dream came true.