Back to the days of innocence.

Today I woke up much more refreshed than the past four days have been. I still had a few symptoms, but they grew very small. With my new energy, I knew what I HAD to do: CLEAN, CLEAN, CLEAN. I had to disinfect the apartment. The last thing I wanted was for my roommates to catch any glimpse of my ailment. So I spent the morning with my Clorox disinfecting wipes wiping down everything I touched. I felt better and the apartment seemed better, and then my roommate walked in. I think my greeting was (humorously, of course) "Nick I am going to kill you." I instantly knew that I was too late with my disinfecting. Being that I've sailed the sea, I laid out a map of all my advice as to how to overcome this sickness. Rightfully so, he was a bit frustrated with me, but he took my advice and has been sleeping all day. I miss my last four days of constant sleeping (hence my lack of blogging).

You may be wondering where I am going with this story, so here is the punchline. As the sun set, my fever rose. I feel extremely better than yesterday, but I am no longer feeling GREAT. I think I took my health for granted, and wore my body out. I am confident that after one more night of medicine, I will conquer this beast.

Above the feeling lousy, and not being able to move, the thing I hate the MOST about being sick is how homeSICK it makes me. There is nothing like the memories of what your family does for you when you are feeling ill. I remember being little and having my dad stay home with me for a day. He would sit with me all day and watch TV and do whatever it took to make me feel better. I remember feeling almost 50% better just creeping down the stairs knowing that him and I would spend the day together. Then, my mom came home. She had every trick in the book to make me feel better. She would half-freeze ginger ale and feed it to me ona spoon. She would then let me lay my head on her lap and she would rub my head until I fell asleep. There is nothing like being little. So I've decided that I am not literally homesick, rather I am age sick. I miss being little, when mom and dad were the most comforting people in the world. This reminds me of a poem I wrote, back when I was little.

Little Boy
Back to the days of innocence, a child having fun.
When mommy was the one you loved, and your problem count was none.
Entertainment wasn't hard to find, just playing with your dad.
Now the only thing you share together, is remembering what you had.
When they were your best friends, who wanted nothing more,
than to see your smiling face, and a big hug at the door.
Hearts didn't break at the lack of love, but at the breaking of a toy.
Laughter came so easy, when I was a little boy.

Now, I realize how CHEESY that is, but I enjoy that the idea that I expressed many, many years ago is still relevant today.

Just as I took my health for granted today, I feel that I have taken my parents for granted my entire life.

Along with parents come delicious meals. I would love to have my mom's home cooked meals, any of them. Even the ones that I spent 20 years complaining about. If I had the funds, I would fly home right now and make a solid effort to show my parents how much I genuinely appreciate them. Clearly, I am in an emotional mood tonight.

Mom and Dad, I love you.

Now, my head is pounding, American Idol is over, and I am extremely tired. Apparently LA is so wild, that 9:00PM is a regular bed time.