Chapter 67: Sleepwalking

Apparently when your soul reenters your body you get sick, a though your body might reject your soul after such a long absence, so long an absence that it seems your body doesn’t recognize your soul as it’s own. Dramatic? Maybe. But yesterday I got my soul back and today I feel sick as a dog. My nose is what started first, and that was yesterday, halfway through my final last shift at work. Then it progressed from there. I attributed it all yesterday as just being tired, I hadn’t had much sleep; I had done a 3 mile walk in the morning, worked, went to the broadcast last night, and had the worst Cold stone ice cream experience of my life. Then last night I woke up around 1:30 a.m. in the most pain I’ve been in for a long time. The fact that it woke me up is proof enough that I was in a lot of pain. At first I thought it was my tooth, I was certain it was going to fall out, but since I just had a dentist appointment three days ago and my teeth seem to be in perfect health I tried to look past the tooth pain, and then I realized the real pain was coming from below my eye, to the right of my nose. It hurt badly; I took all the Advil I could find and some sinus medication. Then I laid down in bed rubbing my face until I fell back asleep. Now I may or may not have overmedicated myself because I finally woke up eleven hours later, and I was still tired. So I must conclude that I am having an allergic reaction to my soul. I’ll acclimate, it’s the only choice I have.
Deep in my medicated stupor I had a really weird dream, a mix of real life, a book I am reading, and maybe more than one subconscious desire, and of course random elements that have nothing to do with my life whatsoever. Do I remember it? Not anymore. I did remember it when I first woke up, but I suppose I waited too long to write it down.
I was groggy through the hour of church that I made it to, and I had trouble driving to and from church today. When I went to my parent’s house I was sleepy and groggy. My parent’s had a “good luck on the new job” cake, but it was from the enemy store and had whipped icing. I despise whipped icing, and when I’m sick I don’t try as hard to cover up how I’m feeling. I wasn’t all together too happy because my mom had invited G.I. Joe. I wasn’t very talkative considering the medication and my mom came into the room and asked why I was mad at G.I. Joe. Luckily my sister had been there and stood up for me that I wasn’t mad at anyone, just not feeling well. We had spaghetti for dinner (not a favorite) so I didn’t eat much of that and then when my mom pulled out the cake and I saw that it was the whipped icing I declined. I could have just taken a piece and scraped off the icing, but I wasn’t in the mood to even attempt it. Then I slugged around my parent’s house until G.I. Joe told me I should leave. I didn’t mind that part because I don’t really like staying at my parent’s house so long, but I always feel obligated to do so. I had mentioned to my mom what I had taken (two cold and sinus tablets and two Advil) and she told me not to take anymore until I was ready to go to bed. Good thing I mentioned to her what I had been taking, because I would have probably kept going and killed myself accidentally. That would have been tragic.