I can't be too shocked that I'm sick; I missed getting a flu shot this year, and I inevitably fall prey to something if I don't. The more remarkable component to this experience is how, well, quiet my life has suddenly become. I never remember that from previous illnesses.I have always characterized myself as someone who is listening to music whenever it is at all possible to listen to music. In the morning, driving to work, iPod at the gym, at night - something is always playing, and there is always something I want to hear, be it for the first time or the hundredth.
The flu changes that. I wallow in all forms of sensory deprivation. Light, food with flavor and texture, the feel of anything besides sweats and the pillow: I shun them all. And for once, silence is the preferred option.
But it freaks me out. If I try to listen to things (this time it's the new Kills single and classic Chameleons) in addition to wanting it to stop, I feel alienated from the music. Is it good? Do I like it? Questions that I normally answer with confidence now stump me. And since I would probably pick my ears over my eyes if that Solomonic choice were ever required, that's a very disorienting aberration.
It makes it hard to sustain my enthusiasm for a music blog, a streaming radio station, and an indie dance party I'm in the process of launching. So, for my sanity, as much as my health, I say, get well soon, or else.
