Being sick is hot

There are advantages to being sick. For instance, I now know more than ever about Paris Hilton thanks to E! and VH1. I am now convinced that the best job in the world has got to be as an heiress, and not real estate appraiser like I originally thought. I have learned how to yell in a whisper. I can even get my kids to realize I mean business by my whispering yell. I have not had to put on makeup for a whole week. I have also realized I am more in love than ever with Bo Bice, and I think he could love me too if he could look past the yellow bruise on my cheek from last week’s dental work, my pasty unsunned skin, and my hair that is fluffy on top and flat in the back from too much pillow time. Oh, and he’d probably find my raspy voice with a hacking cough kind of sexy in one of those sultry diseased smoker kind of ways. And of course there’s the fact that I’m still too sickly for normal food. I’m hungry, but I’m so sick of potatoes and other comfort foods, it’s easier to just go hungry. Needless to say, I’ve never looked so good in my skinny jeans. Again, look past the bruised, pasty skin and unnatural hairdo.

Now that I’ve listed all the postives, I can honestly say that I’d be willing to give them up so that I could be well. Much fun as it sounds laying on the couch all day, I am bored out of my mind! I actually miss working, and of course, so does my bank account. My son keeps looking at me with this sad expression, and in all his 4 years, he tells me that he wishes I could talk good. But I get the feeling it’s more for his sake than my own. I have not been outside much at all, due to the fact that I am chilled in this 70 degree weather. I am in a sweater and shivering while normal people are dusting off their skirts and tank tops. I miss interaction outside of the home. I miss laughing without coughing. I miss sleeping without coughing. Anything without coughing! I miss Spring Lake, playing with my kids, reading to my kids. Yeah, I know. It’s been a week, not a lifetime. But being sick, I get some wimpiness allowance. Oops, that bonus belongs in the first paragraph. Just mentally cut and paste, ok? I’m too tired and sick.

I am blessed right now. If I were living on my own, I would be sick and still have all the household and kid responsibilities still on me. I’d have no one here to take over when it gets to be too much. I’d have to make dinner for me and the kids, and I’m sorry, but kids catch on when you try to feed them cereal three dinners in a row. I’d have to go to the store myself to buy my own medicine. No one would show me they care by advising me to stay in bed and asking what I needed. But I am blessed because I have 3 extra pairs of adult hands living in this house with me and willing to do what it takes to keep things rolling smoothly. My kids are not suffering because I’m sick, since auntie, grandma, or grandpa can fill in as needed. And this home is filled with so much love and support, it’s a working team. I am grateful for this, that I can be sick and miserable, and so happy about it.


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