Over the last few days, I have been feeling unwell. After healing from various injuries, talking to doctors about further testing and assuring everyone that I'm fine, everything calms down for a while before I start to feel anything but fine. While not quite seasonal 'flu (if it were, I'd be lying in a darkened room in a pool of sweat, which is what I spent most of the morning doing, but hey ho), I am coughing and spluttering a lot, having to pause for deep breaths... and I appear to have lost all hearing in my right ear, so this may be an ear infection.
I've still been going to work, because I don't think I can afford not to (and we're understaffed, so need all hands on deck), but this hasn't been helping too much. I even went out last night, girlfriend's birthday necessitating some sort of levity, which a meal and showing of Die Hard in central London provided quite nicely. It may not have helped to get home so late, though, as I woke up today feeling worse.
Earlier today, as well, I read something on one of the blogs from the list this year which, intentional or not, pressed all my buttons at the same time. In my sleep-deprived state, brain full of fog and body full of cold, the arousal I felt stirring in my belly proved an odd contrast. At first, I'll admit, I wasn't even certain that I was aroused... maybe I was hungry, or tired, or depressed. Malaise? Nausea? Vertigo? No, I reminded myself, I was aroused - the words that caused it were right on the screen in front of me - and I had a gradually stiffening erection growing that only served to put the point home.
Since then, I've been in an odd state somewhere between feeling sick and feeling horny. It's a strange combination - not sick enough to forget about being horny, but too sick to act upon it (although I've tried), but at the same time being not horny enough to forget about being sick. I can barely move from my chair, although putting on my warm Mario onesie seems like the best thing to do right now, and I'm so restless that going to bed or sitting on the sofa with a DVD (although as a sick person I should be doing that) would be a step backwards, as I'd just be tempted to get up and walk around a bit.
I'm surprised that I'm lucid enough to write a blog post using complex sentences. My brain must be working; my body certainly doesn't feel like it.
Having said all that, this isn't really a bad feeling. The uncomfortable buzz in my the pit of my stomach from the sickness isn't so bad when mixed with the contended hum of sexual arousal. I have an increased heartbeat already (that I can hear thudding in my blocked ear); wondering whether it's from my painful chest or my throbbing cock is pleasantly distracting from the associated chest pain. My muscles, previously screaming with pain on every single movement, are complaining much less when half of me is focusing on something else.
I don't really know what I want, if anything, but when the alternative is feeling sick without other sensations, this is a not-altogether-unpleasant sensation... at least for the moment it lasts.
So here I sit. Here I rest. Here I wait. And here I squirm.