Fucking sick _again_. You know, if winter didn't generally mean I sleep poorly, I might have taken the oddly exhausted that I was on Sunday at 7pm and said 'oh! I'm getting sick! I should do something about this' as what that meant. *sigh*
Someone else's words managed to say what I often feel like when I'm sick, which I will now paraphrase. Being sick makes me very badly want to be taken care of and held and cuddled, but not in a focused solely on me kind of way. I want them to do whatever they need to be doing, but with little bits of checking on me mixed in.
However, I seem to not tend to actually live with people for whom this behavior is how they work, and being sick makes me hate even more to appear like I'm whiny (because being sick tends to _make_ me whiny and needy and all sorts of vulnerable), so I don't want to ask for it. Besides, it's nearly impossible for someone to actually manage to intersperse checking up on me and taking care of me and such at the same time as getting things done unless that's already how someone works.
The last time I had an evil kidney stone at the same time as complete inability to keep much of anything down (including some liquids), I happened to have been at the home of someone for whom periodic checking in on people they care about when they are sick _is_ how they work. That was nice... I mean, I felt bad because of the immense feeling of helplessness on their part, but it was still very nice.
Yeah. So now I distract myself until it's late enough that I might actually _sleep_, and then I go to bed. Bah. Stupid sick. Stupid sick making me have trouble telling if I'm hungry or if food is revolting, and making my throat hurt and my head ache, and making me cold and tired and... bah. I hate winter for how often I get sick almost as much as for the lack of light.