I am utterly appalled that Texas has only one huge being in the Gallery of Huge Beings. I know there has got to be more than one, although you couldn’t ask for a finer specimen! This is Texas, dammit, and everything’s bigger in Texas. At the very least, somebody should let those huge-being lovers in Minnesota know that.

At the end of the highly controversial Brawlers vs. Betties bout last night, Elle McFierce exclaimed over how I would write a happy post today. That was right before I fell over from exhaustion.

It’s not like I did anything to become exhausted. Except for one grand slam, an almost inefficient backwards whip given to Audiomind, and a fun little blocker takeout while jamming on Becky Booty, my performance was pretty much dismal. I wasn’t expecting it to be much more than that after a couple of weeks of forced inactivity.

I also wasn’t expecting the Brawlers to win, but we did. I really shouldn’t admit that I don’t have a lot of faith in my home team, but we all remember the tough year the Brawlers went through in 2007. 2008 was starting to look almost identical, but now we’ve won a game somewhat early in the season. I’m positive we can take another one if we all get and stay healthy. I still heart my Brawlers, even though the rest of my body is consumed with HaRD Knocks.

So I’m feeling alright today, even though I could barely walk last night. Then I get the bad news that I won’t get a job interview I was pretty sure I would nail. That just boggles my mind, because I look great on paper, and I’m even better in person when I really, really want the job (and who wouldn’t really, really want a job at a prestigious private school?). Damn. So I keep reminding myself it’s probably better that I don’t take a new job while my personal life is so stressful, even though I do have an interview with a major player in the oil & gas industry in a couple of weeks. Sweet.

Yeah, Elle, this post was a little bit happy, but a little bit bummed, too. I seriously need to get out of this funk before the summer gets outrageously busy with bouts, bouts, and more bouts on top of my obsession with finding the perfect job as well as getting a big girl ready for kindergarten. Oh, happy posts!

I was having a really good week last week. The library received a ton of donated design books, and I was just having the best time cataloging, processing, and getting them on the shelf. I got to sit down with a couple of fellow derby martyrs and churn out lineups for four games in two days, utilizing all twenty skaters on our roster for the Roll for a Cure tournament in Orange County, California. Most people complain about tasks like cataloging or manipulating lineups, but I love that sort of detail-oriented, mind-numbing work. Then, the shivering started.

Thursday morning, I took some Motrin for the aches and pains I usually have the day after derby practice. Thursday afternoon, I took some more for a slight fever. Early Friday morning, I woke up with a fever of 102. More Motrin, and wow, that stuff works on fever, but what about my legs that won’t work right and my brain that feels like it’s trying to get loose? The doc sees nothing causing the fever, but take these antibiotics anyway just in case. So the fever is under control, but good Lord, my head! I didn’t sleep more than thirty minutes at a time Friday and Saturday night. So Sunday morning, 5am, I can’t take it anymore. Time to go to the hospital. I practically have to be carried to keep from passing out, I feel like I’m freezing to death, I have to stop to dry heave, and my head throbs with the sound of a pin that fell next door. Been out of the country? No. Burning when you pee? No. Congestion? None that would cause this! Well, then let’s butcher your arm for blood and then pump some morphine and fluids in there. Next we’re going to take chest x-rays, a cat scan, and if nothing comes back from those, get ready for that SPINAL TAP! Whee!

After all that, nothing. Nothing! Everything is clear. I still have a headache, although it’s not as bad as Sunday morning. I can look back and laugh at the fact that I dry heaved all over the hospital, but the minute I walked out the doors, I puked water all over the bench waiting for my husband to bring the truck around. Nice. I cannot laugh about the fact that every time I am prepared to kick ass across the country as a member of HaRD Knocks, something happens to either prevent me from doing it or seriously hamper me in some way. So maybe I can’t skate, but I can be the leader I was chosen to be, and I’m not going to break my promise to take The Kitten to Disneyland. This one will be the bad week gone good.