Weird stuff, this shingles. (Which I am increasingly convinced is what this is…maybe it’s the power of suggestion, I dunno, but I am experiencing more and more of the classic symptoms.)

But the pain, it comes and goes. It was hard to sleep last night; sore-side-down was like OW NO STOP; sore-side-up was more…fluttery. Like the sheets or my hair or I don’t know what was touching it, even when nothing was.

And then all day today, it’s sort of cycled through baby-spiders-under-the-skin, needles-in-the-bone, an uncomfortable sunburn, and then occasional periods of, Oh, right, there’s something wrong with my face, and it’s hideous too.

I took it pretty easy today–never left the house, didn’t do any yoga. I did do a bit of freelance work, but then I flopped onto the couch and mostly relaxed. I’m TIRED. That’s got my attention.

Mark and I canceled the trip to California on Friday. Between his plague and my plague, we should not be visiting his aged parents right now. (Nor infecting everyone on the airplane between here and there.) We’re still hoping to see Cirque du Soleil for Valentine’s Day…which means I have to have the energy to drive to Seattle…but I’ve got a few days to decide that.

And so I am declaring comment-amnesty on yesterday’s LJ comments and heading to bed…I’ll answer them tomorrow. Good night all!

Originally published at Shannon Page. You can comment here or there.