I have been sick.
I don't mean just a little sick, I mean, sick as in disgustingly sick. For over a month, I have been sniffling, sneazing, wheazing, and for the past three days, have suffered through the worst of it. Antibiotics, which I have long resisted, finally seemed to be the only hope. I feel better now, but for a while there, I wasn't sure if I would ever again know the simple pleasure of going through the day without hacking up something better left to the imagination than described.
The thing about being sick is, you now have an excuse to be lazy. You can lay around and veg, watching the same videos all day long if you please, or loosing yourself in a good book. But for some reason, I resisted this.
There was a time, in a galaxy far, far away, where I embraced laziness. Those are the years when you first leave home, and your roomates and you engage in a game where you see who can be the most slothful, until someone finally breaks down and cleans something. It becomes a competition, or atleast it was for us. I lived with two guys, and they thought being a girl, that I would be the first to break. Not so. They greatly underestimated me, for I had elevated laziness to an artform.
But you get married (and unmarried) and have some ninos, and suddenly you have the urge to clean everything in sight. That is a good thing, because as Jeff Foxworthy once observed, being an adult means that eventually you have to clean up, or atleast make people think you do.
Today was the first day in weeks where I moved voluntarily. Previously, I managed to make it to work (money is a powerful motivational force!) but came home and collapsed on the couch as soon as possible. My kitchen looks like the mess hall for the Royal Slobovian Army, my bedroom is now a second laundry room, and the bathroom is best left avoided.
So I picked up a little. This is not easy, because every time I do anything, my dog and cat act as though this is a major event. I do not know why. The minute my body moves in even the slightest way, my dog gets excited and jumps around. My cat gets alert and pounces to the floor, waiting to see what I will do.
All I am doing is getting some tea.
And they follow me. Everywhere. All the time. And even when I am feeling well, this is hard to live with because, well...you try cleaning the house with a black lab and a tabby following your every move.
But the neediness of my animals aside, its just agrevating to be sick. What was once a minor irritant now gets under the skin like nothing else, and there are many telemarketers whom I took my aggreavation out on who could testify to that.
So today, I am going to clean my house.
I think.
Because its been a while, and things have gone beyond nasty. I may need a little help.
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