I feel like I played nurse for a lot of the weekend.

Paul started feeling sick Friday, so he scrapped his usual plan of coming over here and decided to wait it out. The good thing about that is, as I’ve said a thousand times before, my Friday nights in alone are super productive because I gradually catch up on things during the week and get everything else nailed Friday night.

Saturday was pretty good, too, and Paul felt well enough to come over in the afternoon. He still wasn’t great, but we walked into town for the Whiskey Rebellion Festival, which was basically just a mini fair where I could eat haluski and fried food for dinner. In other words, it was great.

My mom always jokes that men are the worst when they’re sick because they’re whiny and act like they’re dying over the littlest thing. I do think there’s something to be said for feeling like hell for one week out of every single month for decades, and while Paul handles illness better than, say, my dad, it wasn’t a fun time. He woke up late Saturday night with bad ear pain and clogging–the same symptoms that contributed to a cold I had the summer we started dating and left me out of commission for a good three weeks. The good news is I know how to handle a clogged ear. The bad news is Paul’s body rejects all of my known methods and nothing much worked, except for drugs.

The catch is that we think said drugs contributed to the numerous nosebleeds he ended up having Sunday night and into Monday after he decided he didn’t feel well enough to go home or go to work. I have a theory that a contributing factory was that because he’s much more affectionate than I am, he enjoyed seeing a more nurturing side of me. And by “seeing” I mean “being on the receiving end.” Except I got a little more grumpy when he kept me up on a work night and was trying counterproductive remedies for a dry mouth. Like drinking things that aren’t water.

I have a feeling this illness was stress-related due to the move, although he seems okay now. And we did get to have dinner at Mr. Gyro’s in town yesterday, which was nice since we almost never see each other during the week if it’s not a holiday.

He’s now back at his apartment, where he’s celebrating his newfound freedom by eating whatever he wants, lounging around naked, and watching basically anything that would offend either a parent or his 12-year-old brother.

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