I am very inclined to believe an evil illness monster lives in my carpet. Every time I go near it on my hands and knees I wake up the next day really sick.
Case one; last month, when I had to clean my room, so that the professional carpet cleaner could come in (don't you hate cleaning for the cleaners...). I got a sore throat, filled an entire large grocery bag with used tissues (yeah, you might not have needed to know that), was home from school for a whole week (did I mention I really like school), and was utterly miserable... Not to mention that I proceeded to pass it both both MM and DD.
Case two; two nights ago, when I dropped a needle (sewing paper is fun) on the floor and had to search for it. I got a really sore throat, and my whole head was fuzzy and heavy. My ears hurt, and my throat hurt, my eyes hurt, my scalp hurt (I tried to brush my hair and it felt like I was using sandpaper instead of a hairbrush). In fact, they STILL hurt. My ears are uber sensitive, I can't listen to myself typing without wincing. I can't swallow, let alone talk. Swallowing the paracetamol pills every four hours is torture, and I can't be comfortable with blankets or with a tee-shirt and shorts, because my hands are inevitably the total opposite of my feet in temperature.
I don't mind getting sick every so often. It makes up for feeling really great the rest of the time. I am just tired of being sick, seeing as how I was just sick not that long ago, and why is it so nice out? It's summer, and I want to be outside, not miserable.
Granted, my bedroom is really not a healthy place to sleep. Firstly, it is an exterior wall with little to no insulation. Secondly, it borders the bathroom, which leaks. My bedroom harbours mildew, mould, and spiders. The house loves to keep in moisture, and opening the window makes my bedroom cold and it gets very little sun exposure not to mention the trees outside.
Possibly being sick will strengthen my immune system enough to totally defend against any further evil illness carpet monster onslaughts. That is quite probably the very thing I said last time. Well look at me now. If my immune system was doubly strengthened, then the evil illness monster's attack was quadrupled. Backfire!
I wanted to post this for three reasons. One, to vent my frustration at being sick (again) and also living in such a crap house (and bedroom), which we can't move out of. Since we rent the house, there is no option of wood floors (the linoleum in the kitchen is placed right on the concrete...talk about great installation). Wood floors are better than carpets for so many reasons; firstly, they don't have (as many) hiding places for bugs, bacteria, and other unhealthy/microscopic things. Secondly, they are easier to clean. Thirdly they look nice. Fourthly, the carpets are probably as old as the house (1950s-1970s anyone?), and wood floors would be new. I have allergies (cat and dog hair/dander and grass...I know, right? I love cats and dogs, and grass...who doesn't?) and asthma (thank you asbestos in senior infants building), so carpets are really really really a bad idea.
Okay...second reason I wanted to post this. Being sick is one of those things that's hard to imagine, unless you are sick at that moment. Just in case I need a record of how it feels to be sick for some short story/poem/passage in novel. And also in case I am finding it hard to be sympathetic with someone else who is sick.
Last reason; self pity. Maybe if I moan about it and wallow in misery, I might feel better when I'm done. Yeah right.
Oh and also, maybe telling other people about the evil illness monster will prove it to be a fake, and it will release its hold on the carpet and go live in a swamp somewhere.