Yesterday I watched Jerry Springer, Maury Povich, Judge Somebody, Days of Our Lives, First Time Home Buyer, a Spanish soap opera, an infomercial for Bare Minerals, another infomercial for Wen Hair Care, the news and Thomas the Tank Engine. I have no explanation for Thomas the Tank Engine but for the rest, I have a perfectly good excuse.
I was sick.
There, I said it. I was sick. I have a cold and I had a fever. I had chills and body aches and a stuffy nose, a cough and exhaustion. I got the kids ready for school and I went to bed. I wore sweat pants and t-shirt, a sweatshirt and a robe, and two pairs of socks. I put my hair in a headband and I took to my bed ( just like all good Victorian women who suffer from hysteria.)
This clearly does not paint a very attractive picture. Coupled with my last post about getting fat, I am most definitely not going to be collecting any male admirers. Nevertheless, it is worth mentioning and even worth discussing. It has struck me as rather odd that I am able to endure such significant amounts of stress and responsibility. I have more than my share ( but of course, much less than some – in case there is some kind of permanent record out there for degree of appreciation – I wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful.)
I have often thought – privately ( or on the world wide web – same difference) that it doesn’t make any sense that I don’t ever get sick. I actually thought maybe I was that guy in the movie who couldn’t get hurt ( what was that movie called?) I never get sick. I might feel a little under the weather, maybe even a little tired and worn down – heck, I might even have PMS… but I have not laid in my bed nor have I watched TV during the day for 10 or more years. I have not ever even turned on the TV during daylight.
Nevertheless, in the last week, I managed to campaign a few times, teach my class, manage my mother’s stay in a nursing home and future possible incapacitation, two sick kids, a large Rosh Hashana dinner, and a husband’s sudden and ridiculous trip to the emergency room. Maybe I reached my limit?
As I “took to my bed” and observed the day passing me by – in 30 minute increments – coupled with an inordinate number of commercials for lawyers – I cured myself…
Today, I am fine… which kind of stinks. Now I have to turn the TV off…