I had one of those nights on Monday that started out perfectly normal, and with each passing hour I seemed to develop a new symptom – which by the end of the night had turned into a full-on head cold. It has now consumed my life. I cannot fathom moving away from my Kleenex box, I have blankets and slippers scattered throughout the house as they are tossed off or grabbed onto depending on the fever vs. chill situation, and I look upon a hot cup of tea with the kind of awe and gratitude that would normally be reserved for a chocolate éclair. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had a cold – but this one is packing a punch!
That being said – there is always an upside. As lousy as I feel, there is a great deal of delight in knowing that I am not expected to make dinner. I cannot tell you how sick I am of making dinner! This is not true every night. There are times that I am genuinely pleased to try out something new. During my respite from the working world I have happily experimented with new marinades, rubs, frittatas and gleaned a great deal of comfort from homemade soup. However, no matter how satisfied I have been preparing a meal I know I am never more than 23 hours away from my husband hungrily re-appearing in the kitchen. I honestly don’t know how my Mom managed to make dinner night after night, year after flippin’ year, without losing her mind. I mean, how many things can you be expected to do with a chicken? This pressure is somewhat self-imposed – but without a job these days, I feel the least I can do is come up with something to feed my hard working breadwinner. If a raging fever gets me a few days off – maybe it’s not so bad.
I suspect my body may have conjured up this illness because it learned of my plan to start training again. I have touched base with an inspiring fitness loving Angel named Sara, and had planned our first session this week. It’s like when a dog hears you talking about the “V-E-T” and suddenly they’re hiding under the bed. My body must have caught wind of the impending mutiny and has come up with its own offensive. It won’t last forever – but a couple of days in bed watching episodes of Toddlers and Tiara’s can only ultimately inspire me to change my life for the better.
Stay well – send Kleenex!