Sunday was a BOO day. Monday wasn’t much better. There were still lots of naps on Tuesday but hey, you gotta look at the up side after finally keeping breakfast down, right?
And now, since no one’s interested in a blow by blow account of how I am or am not better, I bring you this fantastically random assortment of sickly annoyances. Courtesy of Wednesday’s car rider line.
You Know Being Sick Sucks When…
** You feel like you’re dying but you don’t look like you’re dying, so unless you have a “death on a cracker” t-shirt then no one knows you feel like hell and are only retaining about 6% of what they’re saying to you.
** You need to blow your nose every two minutes in a desperate attempt to keep your head from exploding, but you can’t keep a tissue box by your side because you don’t have the strength to fight off Gracie and her utter compulsion to devour any tissue in sight.
** Your body swings from submerged-in-hot-lava to dunked-in-cold-water and back again. In an instant every surface cell breaks into a sweat like you’ve eaten a Serrano pepper on a hot summer’s day. Suddenly the roots of your hair are damp and you feel like you’ve run a 5k (or so I hear). You consider changing into something else but know you’ll simply sweat through that outfit, too. Plus it means more laundry when you’re finally better.
** You are certain compressing your head in an industrial vise would hurt less than the headache that has taken up residence in your skull. (AND WHAT ARE WE PAYING THE DAMN DRUG COMPANIES FOR ANYWAY IF THEY CAN’T KILL A SIMPLE HEADACHE?!)
** You find yourself physically incapable of hounding the kids to (pick up, do their chores, finish their homework, eat something) but are mentally alert enough to be pissed off when they don’t do it on their own.
** The fact that the comfort of a dog snuggling up to me is counterbalanced by approximately 400° of canine body heat. (See “submerged in hot lava” above.)
** You find yourself enduring the food dance of recovery – I think I might be hungry. Yes, this might be hunger, I remember this feeling. Unless I’m nauseated because I haven’t eaten all day, then crackers will fix me right up. Unless it’s because I’m actually nauseated and my body insists on rejecting sustenance, then I’ll just end up tossing my cookies. But I want to eat something…but I don’t want to throw up… – until someone finally finds you passed out on the couch and insists you have some soup.
My friends, you have been more than patient with me and my icky sicky talk this week. I promise I am on the mend. Now excuse me while I find some wood to knock on.