The Recovery Pt 2 / Cabin Feverish

I think my wife is getting over her sickness now. Her temperature is down to a tidy 36 degrees, and she ate some breakfast today. Real breakfast, not judge sludgy rice soup. She was up and walking around earlier, and even decided not to wear her winter coat in the house. She was having hot and cold spells over the last day or so, but I think the worst is behind her now.

I, on the other hand, am starting to lose it. We haven’t left the apartment for 2 full days now, and I’m feeling a bit trapped. Physically, I feel perfectly fine, but I can’t leave. I have everything I need here; food, water, notebooks for complaining about my problems, but I’m kind of on an invisible leash here. I don’t even have a key, or the address, or the phone number, so if I go out there and get lost, they’d have to release the blood hounds to find me. “Will these dogs just FIND Nathan, or will they find and KILL him? What’s that officer? You’re trailing off.”

So, as I gaze out the window at the bustling city below, while my wife has her afternoon nap, I feel a big hankering to go outside and play. I’m like a kid with a new kite during a thunderstorm. And no, not Ben Franklin. If I’m cooped up for much longer, my brain will probably start looking like the fried egg in those late 80’s, DEA funded “This is your brain on drugs” commercials. Actually, some good drugs might hit the spot right about now. No dice. China isn’t as “hip” as Vancouver. You can’t just walk down East Hastings street over here and get offered crack, smack, H, blow, rock, powder, dust, rust, speed, cid, GHB, LSD, PCP, You down wit OPP, Oxycontin, Exstacy or wallpaper glue. Looks like I’m on my own. I’ll just sit back nd get lost in this crazy brain of mine.

“What’s that, talking gumball machine? There’s an armadillo tapping on the window? C’mon in little guy! But don’t make any noise, you’ll wake up the baby escalators.”

So, if you haven’t already guessed it, this is that part in The Shining where Jack loses it. I don’t think I’ll try to chop anybody up with an axe or anything, but I may just have a slight case of cabin fever. Bourbon, please. And leave the bottle, Jeeves.