Someone, anyone, give that girl a drink

I'm sick and it's making me testy. I even swore today. 

I woke up for the fifth day in a row feeling like my throat was covered in ant bites. But I got up, took a really hot shower and got ready for work. At the embassy, despite being cranky and feeling like I was hit by a dump truck, I resumed recruiting top Israeli financial institutions to attend this event at the ambassador's residence about boring things like "asset recovery." So basically, I was on the phone all day trying to 1) act like I know what I'm talking about and 2) feign enthusiasm for this seminar and 3) not tell everyone to "go to hell." 

I think the hardest part about being ill in my situation (very far from family and friends), is that no one really cares that I'm sick. I mean, sure you have the necessary cordialities by co-workers and such, but I'm no sucker. People are just being polite. I guess I just feel like people have to actually know me to care about me. Like when a person emotionally tells a large group of people "I may not know each of you personally...but I love each of you," I roll my eyes a bit and sort of feel sorry for the person (this usually happens in sacrament meeting when teary-eyed people take the stand). 

Now I understand that these people are trying to be sincere, but I really don't buy it for one second. Call me a pessimist or other cruel names, but I really don't. They may think that they love everyone, but I think that love is more than a passing emotion. They just happen to be experiencing strong emotions, yea, even love, but just because you feel a lot of love does not mean you love EVERYONE.  You may wonder if I have a point to my rambling, and I do. Sort of.

The way I see it is that in order to love someone, you must know that person for both the good and the bad. For me to believe that someone loves me, they have to know I can be a royal jerk sometimes and that I can be caddy and selfish. I can be a downright brat, and it's disgusting to see. They have to know that sometimes I have an unfortunately colorful vocabulary (despite my best efforts) and that I am one of the least thoughtful people I know of. They have to know these things and still love me. Sure, I'm not completely hopeless and have a positive attribute or two (I'm not looking for validation or a self-esteem boost), but if one doesn't know what a complete moron I am, they can't love me. At least I wont believe it.

So that being said, I miss being around people who love me. I miss my family that loves me because they have to. I miss people like Kwaw, who when I was suddenly overcome with the most insanely painful menstrual cramps in history (that made walking nearly impossible and left me bed-ridden for the rest of the day), drove his car right up to the door of the JFSB (yes, on the sidewalk) to take me home. Or like Kelly, who the minute she finds out I have had a semi-upsetting experience will drop everything she's doing, look me in the eyes while grabbing my hands and say slowly in her social worker voice "Erin, let's talk about this." Good crap, there are just so many stellar people in my life who mean so much to me. Chances are, if you are reading this, I probably miss you. 

In fact, I'd bet on it.