I used to be invincible.

I didn’t know it at the time. Well, that’s not entirely true. I didn’t actively come to the realization that I was invincible at the time. I certainly knew it enough to act the part.

When was I invincible? In college, of course.

I suppose an example is in order. On Villanova’s campus, there is a… I don’t actually know what the hell it is. I imagine the best word is sculpture. It’s named “The Oreo” due to its black and white coloring and large circular appearance. It’s basically two large disks, stood on their side, each roughly 10 feet in height. There is a gap about a foot wide between them. And despite Tony’s best efforts, no, it’s not made of chocolate and no, you can’t eat it.

One drunken night on campus (that’s probably redundant, I think the exception to the rule would be “one sober night on campus”) we were stumbling around from dorm to dorm. We passed the Oreo and decided to get a picture. Standing in front of it was too easy. I also think there were girls around, which would explain why the picture wasn’t the handful of us air humping various sides of it (the guys reading this will understand that). So we decided to climb up and sit on top.

This is getting wordy, so I’ll cut to the chase. I stood between the two disks and propped myself up on the back one. Bring both drunk and clumsy, I slipped forward off of it. The front of my chin hit the top of the front disk. I hit high enough on the disk that my nose didn’t even hit it. Why do I point that out with that much detail? Because if I had fallen no more than an inch further, I’d have shattered the better portion of my teeth against the front half of the Oreo.

At the time, I didn’t think of that possibility. There was no risk. Hell, there was no thinking. Just do.

I came to this realization the other day while walking on campus. I was bundled up in a t-shirt, button down, hooded sweatshirt (hood up), coat, and hat. I was still freezing my ass off. On my way to the lab, however, I looked over at Mendel field and noticed two students playing frisbee. They were in jeans and long sleeve t-shirts. That’s it.

They had no concept of how cold it was, nor any concern for the repercussions. I, meanwhile, have been sick nearly the entire time since I’ve teaching. Thankfully, I dodged the brutal stomach virus that almost caused campus to be shut down (I’m not exaggerating about that either). But the fact remains, I now feel the cold on campus. I never did before.

I used to be invincible. I miss those days.

Ah, the weekend. Time to unwind after a long week at work, catch up on grading papers, and have some fun.

At least, that’s what a good weekend is like.

Now picture the opposite. I’m sick, AGAIN. I haven’t blogged much in the new year, and that’s partially due to the fact that I’ve spent the better portion of it fighting off death by head cold. Even all jacked up on pills, this weekend still found me going through boxes of tissues, frequently being light headed (seeing as I was too sick to drink, this feeling was almost welcome), and coughing like a 81 year old smoker.

For the first time in the 5 years we’ve lived together, Meg and I are sick at the same time. We were an adorable couple sitting on the couch watching TV together, coughing up a lung every so often, and accumulating a nice mountain of tissues on the floor.

The irony of this being the first time we’re both sick is of course the fact that we have a baby now. Having one sick parent and a baby is a bitch in and of itself. When both are down for the count, it’s a damn nightmare.

Oh ya, and in case I wasn’t getting any sympathy just yet, Leanne is teething. Or sick herself. When she’s screaming her head off for no good reason, it doesn’t really matter at that point. You hate life equally.

I’m leaning towards teething. The symptoms are… interesting. Not surprisingly, the kid is miserable. She screams for no apparent reason. She’s cuddly, always trying to climb on Meg and me, but that never really seems to be relief for her. She can have a fever, or at least feel warm. Her nose and diapers get really runny, which sounds weird, but then again, what the hell do I know about what it takes to grow teeth.

We brought in reinforcements. Grandma was more than happy to spend the day with Leanne while Meg slept (this was Friday, so I was still stumbling through work, breaking just about everything I touched). The rest of the weekend was spent napping in shifts. There’s a certain amount of guilt felt when being happy the baby is sleeping, but we we were pretty much at the point of being too tired to feel guilt.

Thankfully, as I write this, Meg and I are finally starting to feel better. Leanne might not be through the worst of it, but at least Meg and I will be in a better position to deal with it.