I splashed hot oil on myself last night.
I was frying samosas and it spit and splashed and I jerked back and, well, splashed more oil on myself.
I have blisters on my face (chin and near my lips). I have blisters on my neck. I have blisters on my chest. I have a blister on my stomach. And I have a blister on my hand.
And they fucking hurt.
And after it happened, I did what I normally do – wipe it off and kept going know it was going to hurt but trying to get done with the cooking. I used to do the same thing when I worked at the pizza place in high school and college. Feel the pain, and move on.
But it fucked with me. It hurt. It still hurts. And looks pretty. Just call me Spot.
Then on top of it all, I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a bus. I went to work – four coffees later including three shots of espresso, and I was ready to curl up under my desk. So at lunch, I admitted defeat and came home and slept for two hours or so. Then I went to the store where I think I wandered more than shopped. Then came home, took three advil and collapsed on the couch again.
I’ve been cold. I’ve been hot. I’ve been achy. And I’ve had a headache. Even a hot bath helped much.
I’ll probably stay home tomorrow. Sleep it off. Or hope to sleep it off. I don’t know if it is the two weeks of insomnia knocking me on my ass or what. Doesn’t matter. I feel like crap.
Time to take care of me.
And make sure aloe on my skin is part of that.