this story.

i shouldn't be awake right now.

but i am, and thinking of everything but my meditative white room: the chalkboards i have to paint, the work i won't get to before heading into chicago for a regional conference tomorrow. what comfortable, cool and work-approved non-tank shirt i should try and paste on my exhausted frame when i wake up. why this sleep tank top fits way too loosely?! sheesh.

but what is probably the real reason i'm awake: just before i turned off my bedside lamp earlier, a moth sprung from a corner of my room. i jumped, and turned to find its huge shadow bounce across the wall opposite the lamp. while i thought of how to swish the large creature out of the room, the moth made a line straight for the exposed work-table lamp bulb - and then got caught between the bulb and the inner wall of the lamp! there was sizzling right away. forgetting myself, i jerked over, turned off the lamp and tried to knock the moth out of captivity -

but alas.

with the light off, the sound of the moth's final movements were painfully dramatic. all i could do was take a deep breath. i left the light off, unable to draw the moth's grave yet. but my mind kept twitching.

and.

and it probably doesn't help that, earlier, i experienced a strange state. it went this way: i've been eating plant-based since january–no meat, maybe drops of dairy. no eggs. but recently, i've had two occasions to try working back in some fish. last week, the first occasion, i ordered a seared tuna sandwich at the three floyds brewery in muenster, indiana. well-flavored and delicious, if a bit strange after six months with a fish-bereft palate, the tuna found me well.

so today, willfully ignorant of the specifics of what happens to raw tuna after four days, i chose to eat the second half of the sandwich as a late lunch. at my computer about an hour later, i looked up, face twisted, at a coworker who'd offered a pleasantry. our ensuing interaction went something like this:

coworker - (simple question) 'hey leah, how are you?'
me - (truthful and awkward) 'actually, i've just started feeling a little strange. like my face has just flooded with heat. it's come on just now, suddenly!'
coworker - (attempting to keep it light) 'oh-oh, sounds like you got a little too much sun!'
me - (truthful. awkward.) 'hmm, that's not it. in fact, i feel a little delirious. i have this headache coming on, too. is my face red? this is really very strange.'
coworker - (abort!) 'well, you're a bit red, but i'm sure it'll pass. stay out of that sun. you have a good one, leah.' [backing away]
me - (truthful, unecessary) 'uh huh, thanks - you, too. i dunno though, i wasn't in the sun that long today. i have to check this out! my face feels hot to the touch! this is crazy, no?!'
- crickets -

i found a mirror. sure enough, my face had turned a bright reddish-pink. my neck and shoulders were the same color. my head and ears felt like they were being repeatedly smacked with a sharp penetrating force, like you feel when running on a windy day. my cheeks and forehead were boiling. i'm sure my temperature would have read 105 degrees.

luckily, i'd reached the end of the work day. after a quick call to a triage nurse, i determined i was best on my own. i biked the few blocks home safely, spiraled up my back steps and gulped five cups of water before i knew it.

i'm not sure what all that was. was it the raw tuna? it tasted fine. was it my recent vegan system reacting? i'd eaten the same thing last week!

anyway. a few hours later, i'd completely recovered, and found myself in the most lucid state i've reached in a while. i've been in that state all afternoon and night, until now.

i'm going to sleep.