This was edited April 2014 from its original first published as part of my September 2002 letter.
And I’m STILL sick!!! Granted, I’ve felt better in recent weeks, but I am still not fully recovered. And to make matters worse, I worked myself into a relapse recently. More accurately I played myself into a relapse. The yearend baseball tourney proved to be a bit much for me. Oh, I did manage to play all five games, ump another game, pitch for the longest hit competition and party my ass off until three in the morning. I even convinced myself that it was all worth it. But as the days of feeling really crappy begin to mount, I doubt this thought more and more. That being said the tournament was a pretty good time again. The weather was fabulous; sunny all day with a high in the low thirties. All that was missing were girls on trampolines or a swimming pool! We managed to finish third this year, having dropped two games in the round robin. We just didn’t have the stamina to win all the games, but third is definitely respectable. Besides, we won it all last year and we aren’t greedy.
As for the season, a remarkable second place finish didn’t manifest itself in a league championship. Vacations and prior commitments left us terribly outgunned in the semi-final game. We made a valiant effort, but were soundly thumped. All in all, it was a terrific season for the team as we proved that women are not a hindrance to success in beer league baseball! League rules require at least three women per team, so most teams play with just three women. We, in an attempt to suck up to Gloria Steinem, played with five or six women all season long. We finished with a terrific 9-2-1 record and scored the most runs in the league. Not too damn shabby I must say.
But back to my health issues, I finally got to see that sleep specialist today. Not that I was expecting much, but what a waste of my time. First of all, the freak had no office chair. Instead, he sat on one of those giant exercise balls! No kidding. Thank heavens he had regular chairs for guests. Then he proceeded to blither on about all kinds of stuff that I’d heard a million times from my family doctor. I don’t even think I’m ever going back to see him. He told me to call if I want to talk about anything. That’s nice. Perhaps I’ll give him a call the next time I hear a rumour that Sarah from geography has, like, the most hugest crush on Danny. You know, Danny, the cute guy with the curly hair who works at the Gap at the mall. Whatever!
I’ve come to the realization that no one has a clue what is wrong with me. Or at least not a clue as to what can fix it other than to wait it out. Hey, waiting is something I can do with bells on! In the end, I’m the picture of perfect health, I just happen to feel like crap. Post-viral Fatigue is the pretty name for things and it basically means I’m stuck feeling crappy for a few more months most likely. Oh, and playing five games of baseball in one day isn’t good for me. Then again, it wouldn’t have been good for me had I been healthy to begin with!