the flu

The flu is awful, no doubt about it. I spent the day with cold chills and hot flashes, with a headache that wouldn't stop. Compare with Fred's bout last weekend, I have it easy: He was laid up on the couch for two days; I'm feeling better after eight hours.
I hate being sick, and I know it was Fred that got me sick, but the truth is that there was no other place I'd have rather been than nursing him this weekend. Seeing him so weak and vulnerable on the couch, all feverish and sad, it only reaffirmed my love for him.
We've passed nine months, and all is well. The old me would have started to get nervous, created drama, wrecked a good thing. Maturity isn't such a bad trait after all.
We've settled into a nice routine.
In the past week, I've reaffirmed something else: I am too young and too fabulous to settle for less than I deserve. That has nothing to do with Fred; he exceeds my expectations, and our love is strong and healthy. I'm trying to focus on bringing my social life up a level. This city is full of great people, restaurants, events. I'm too old for cheap beer and casual evenings as the standard. I'm just not interested in that anymore. I'm drinking less, taking better care of my body and soul, and taking more chances on people.
In the past, I settled for relationships that didn't make me happy. Lately, much of my social life has been like that.
This week, save the flu, has been different: Monday was an impromptu dinner party with new people, and Tuesday was broomball and dinner at Nada. Wednesday was yoga, which reminds me that life should be filled with love, peace and compassion.
Since I started practicing yoga more regularly, I've felt so much better. I can't afford to go to class more than once a week, but to me, it has become the equivalent of a weekly church service. My body and mind are more at rest.
My head hurts.