The FEVER

I've got The Fever. I've got the good fever, the SPRING Fever. I have walked every single day now for at least two months, and in the last two weeks I've gone from leaving my jacket in my office to rolling up my sleeves. Pretty soon it's going to be too hot to walk, lest I assail my coworkers with a stank, sweaty mess of an MCF. And nobody likes that.

But it has been amazing lately, and I've been in pretty good spirits. Part of me recognizes my history with improbability well enough to know that something horrible is around the corner if I'm feeling this great, but I'm enjoying it now. I'm enjoying driving with my window rolled down, enjoying ocean breezes and long stretches of road without thinking about panic attacks. I'm enjoying the blossoming flowers and the petals in the air. I'm even enjoying the large bees loudly getting it on above the sidewalks.

I seem to be knocking down every obstacle lately. One executive at my job has been particularly impressed with my work this week, saying how it gets better and better and that I've been “on a roll lately.” It's rare praise from a tough critic who's been known to yell if something doesn't fit what she's expecting.

I had a small crisis with my car's service plan this week, when I found that every card, sticker, and form had the second letter of my first name as an “o” instead of an “i”. I'm not going to reveal my name obviously, but I will say that with an “o” in that spot, it's NOT A NAME. It's not even a WORD. The dealer put me through to the salesman who sold me the car, who repeatedly put me on hold, who put me through to the service department, at which point I was asked, “Why did they put you through to ME?” I had no idea, but he was more helpful than the guys on the floor and directed me to an 800 number. The girl asked for my policy number and then the name on the policy. “Well,” I said, “See, that's why I'm calling...” She laughed and said they'd send me a correct one in a few days. Problem up; problem down.

I also got good news from my doctor. My blood work was excellent, no signs of diabetes, no problem with blood sugar, and good levels of everything all around. There was one liver thing that was 6 points above normal, but he said we'll just retest in a few months and it will probably be fine. When he got to my cholesterol level he let out a “WOW!” which had me concerned until he explained that 142 is nice and low. All in all, I think quantitative proof of good health has put me in better spirits. The less time I spend worrying and turning into a hypochondriac, the more time I can enjoy the beach and the great weather.

The beach has been ridiculous this week. I really feel like I'm walking through a Disney movie, with the singing birds and vivid colors. I'm talking about the animated kind, not Bridge to Terabithia which I watched on Thursday prior to five hours of new television shows. It's a great and beautiful movie that captures the magic of childhood and imagination, but some scenes were very hard to watch, particularly the cruelty of bullies. Getting beat up and looking for fantasy worlds to escape into describes my own childhood fairly well.

At 33, I'm still finding escapes. One day this week while eating lunch I heard loud peeping. “Look, honey,” said a mother to her child, “Look at the cute BABIES...no, don't throw anything at them.” I looked in the grass and saw one bird, gray with a blue and white stripes around its neck running. I heard more than one cry, some more high pitched, but it wasn't until some of the young made their way on to the sidewalk that I saw the miniature versions of the mother bird, barely larger than acorns. I'm seriously finding myself in Disney territory lately.

In a few weeks I'll be complaining about the heat, or about having to work every weekend as parade and feast season kicks into high gear. Right now though, the weather is just right, and I'm finding perfect pockets of time on picnic tables and park benches. I'll take this fever, and call the doc again in the Fall.