Ronnie and I have, for about 2 or 3 months now, been making plans every free weekend, to make a trip to Staten Island to go exploring around the place, get some sun and see the nature of New York City's Last Frontier Borough (called that only by me). We saw a cannoli restaurant on Staten Island featured on the Food Network or something like that, hence the new name. With my new fitness regiment I don't get too many sweets, so the reward of a cannoli has been motivation enough.
Somehow though, something ALWAYS comes in the way, and we STILL have not made it out there. We planned to go yesterday, but of course something came up. I got sick. I feel like I was JUST sick, which was the most perplexing. I left work early on Friday, hot with fever and achey all over, and Jenny walked me to the subway station because I was crying. I came straight home, loaded with pre-emptive medicine I bought earlier in the day, and have slept through the entire weekend. The fever has broken, but I still feel sick and achey and gross. I feel like it's still Friday because all I've done is sleep, with occasional bouts of consciousness to eat or take meds.
It's been really depressing to wake to pretty, sunshiney days outside on the weekend, when I can hear people talking and taxis honking, and I am just tossing and turning in bed. I think the lesson is that I can never make a planned trip to Staten Island, it's just not meant to be. I was going to make mint chutney this weekend too, I already bought all the ingredients...
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