As I sit
here writing this I can’t help but stare at these pictures and marvel, “Oh
yeah, there was a time that I felt well.”
Not to be a Debbie Downer, but I fear I’m going to spend the majority of
this post complaining about how sick I am…again. I’m disgruntled to report this is the third
time I’ve been ill since the beginning of September and I’m seriously getting
tired of it. I know...everyone told me
that working in childcare was infamous for contracting ill…blah, blah, blah…I really
feel cruddy right now and can’t even concentrate on finishing a thought. In fact, this morning when I took the dog out
I was so disorientated, from either congestion or NyQuil, I considered laying
down in the remains of a False Indigo bush in order to regain my bearings until I could find the backdoor again. Since when do
crunchy perennials look comfortable?
Well, if one drinks enough cold medicine I’d venture to think even a
cold slab of concrete looks inviting…which, ironically enough, was my second
choice for a nap location. I’m happy to
report my trusty canine friend led me back to safety...solidifying my confidence, yet again, that if I ever fall in a well, mine shaft, or simply wander off to
take a siesta in some dead foliage she will fetch help.
Of course there was a time when I wasn’t such a
train wreck. Seriously, not so long ago I was a
fairly put together lady. The woman in
the pictures above is not one who is lying unconscious in her driveway. She is not a, "mouthbreather," who lacks the
intelligence to actually use the rather large protrusion sprouting from the
center of her face…which by the way, I’m proud to state I know how to use. I simply
can’t, due to an abundance of mucus. Yes,
my mom is so proud. Of course, in
several of the pictures above my mouth seems to be slightly ajar. I don’t recall having any congestion
then. Huh…uh oh.
As someone who rarely has the self-control
to sit still and do nothing, I dread the long hours of the day ahead. What am I going to do with myself? I mean seriously, when one is not well enough
to even hit the Starbucks drive-thru what’s the point of being conscious. Well, there’s a solid argument for catching
some z’s in the shrubberez. See what I
did there?...cute huh?...no?...alright. I’ll take that as a sign to wrap this
up. I will state that last night I did
finally acknowledge the horrid fact that I was ill again. I took it as a sign to finally
sit down and watch a Criterion movie that has been on my list for quite some
time. Of course, it was an Italian film
and by the end of it…in between pulls of NyQuil and the many vapors of Vicks… I had convinced
myself I was no longer reading subtitles and had miraculously learned to speak Italian. Now that should be a commercial for cold
medicine! "Are you stuck at home sick and feeling stir crazy? After a couple of slugs of this stuff you’ll
find yourself in bleak post war Italy…begging seers for visions of a better
life and considering theft for survival."
Are there any other geeky movie buffs reading this? Can you guess what film I was watching? Wait...was it a movie...or was it just another Saturday night?
Okay sorry…enough stupidity. In closing, I’m sick as hell and not even
sure this post makes sense. I look
forward to the day I can put back on the sweater I’m wearing in the above
pictures and feel like a woman who has her shit together…until then, I’m just
going to take a little snooze on this countertop.
-r.
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