Who let the lava queen in?

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.”

“Hmmm?  What?”  yawns David, before falling back asleep almost instantaneously.

It’s 1:30 a.m. Moments ago I was curled next to David, really loving being the Big Spoon.  Now I am temperature of the sun.

The Lava Queen by Wasudo (Deviant Art)

Covers off.   I’m sweating from every pore in my torso…  neck…  scalp.  Ugh.  The Lava Queen is back and she’s doing a floor show of excretion.  I stagger to the bathroom, drink two glasses of water, then lean against the sink, panting from my near self-inflicted drowning.

It’s my own damned fault.  I had two drinks this evening.  One at dinner and then a Rusty Nail as a nightcap.  Too much alcohol.  Plus I’m on these stupid pills to regulate my period which I think are just fucking my hormones over.  Double whammy there.   Stupid.  It’s been a few months since I’ve been hit this hard.   I thought it was done.  More the fool me.

No problem.  I’ll just snuggle back into bed now that I’m cooler and… the sheets are all damp.  I look over at David.  Can I possibly re-sheet the bed with him still in it?  Unlikely. Fuck it.  If I have another flash, the cold sheets will feel fantastic.  See that?  Silver fucking lining.

The only problem is when I start to make the bed in the morning.  I probably shouldn’t make the bed with wet sheets.  I could leave the covers off all day and then make the bed right before I go to sleep, or…

“Why are you taking the blow dryer into your bedroom?” asks Rissa.

“MacGyvering.”