Lorelai: It's bad enough being sick, but anybody can have a cold. I mean I’d like to have a good illness, something different or impressive. Just once I’d like to be able to say, 'Yeah I’m not feeling so good, my leg is haunted.'
Winter's going out, Spring's coming in, and we've been hit with a final round of seasonal joy: fevers, head-colds, coughs, sore throats, what-have-you. My apologies if this post makes zilch sense; I'm having trouble thinking today. Also, this was not the post I had intended to write. That should count for something.
I've been locked up in my apartment for the better part of two weeks now, zombie-like. It took the usual route: First Isaac got it (and there was no sleep to be had), then I got it (and there was no sleep to be had), and then Tim got it (he can sleep anyway; personally, I don't think he's really sick).
And now we're all sick together.
Oddly enough, no matter how many times this has happened to us in the past four years, I somehow always forget that I eventually get sick too. I like to imagine myself Super Woman - Invincible to All Viral Illnesses. Guess my body didn't get the memo (or maybe I just forgot to wear my lucky underwear that week). You'd think it might prompt me to quit drinking juice out of my sickly child's plastic cup; but no, I couldn't possibly learn from that mistake. Plus it would completely ruin our lunch routine: I make one serving of food; he eats; then I eat whatever he didn't finish. Less cooking, less dishes, and we're both fed. It's a win-win if you don't factor in the sick thing.
As you can imagine, we've been just hunky-dory, hacking up lungs and such. I have spent a great deal of time sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall in an utterly fever-ridden daze. Speaking of, there are thirteen little dents in the drywall that need to be re-puttied and painted. I know. I counted four times while drowning myself in endless cups of hot lemon water.
I don't like hot lemon water.
This morning I missed my run, which has put me in a bit of a funk because I hate missing my daily work-out routines. But the fact of the matter is, I can hardly walk a straight line let alone run five miles. Also there's a decent chance I'd just end up taking a nap on the sidewalk, which might cause my neighbors undue concern.
Also I wouldn't want to miss Tim's sick-induced operatic performances. He's been doing his best Barry White impersonation all morning, after which he said, "I wish I was always this sick so my voice would always be this low." (Thank heavens he's a fairly healthy person and will probably recover before I do, otherwise I might just put my head through the wall.)
Also I am very busy doing Things I Should Not Do While Sick. For example:
1) De-junk my closet. Many many things have been thrown out that I probably should've kept, but after I lugged them out of the closet I was too tired to actually sort them so I just . . . threw . . . them . . . in the trash?
2) Trim my kid's hair. See, he has this problem wherein the hair on the back of his head grows twice as fast and twice as thick as all the rest of the hair on his head combined. In other words, left alone his hair naturally grows in Bowl-Cut fashion, with a big bird's nest in the back. Like a good mama, I periodically trim it up so he doesn't embarrass me (what else). But since I was sick (yes, I am using this as my excuse), he just ended up looking exactly like Mike Score from Flock of Seagulls. The only way to fix it was to buzz it, so he now has a buzzed head. Fortunately he seems to like it, or so I gather from the excessive posing in front of the bathroom mirror.
3) Turn in Danish homework. Yesterday's assignment was to write a dialogue between myself and a friend at a cafe during lunch hour (we've been learning about menus and things). Of course I made up a hilarious conversation between Tim and myself, in which he says something like, "I biked a whole mile today, so I'm only going to order dessert for lunch. Waiter person, I'd like cake and pie and ice cream and an apple fritter. As for a drink, I'll have sugar with some tea in it." I thought it turned out quite hilarious but Tim may take great offense, especially since we have the same teacher and she's sure to mention it in his class. I so wish I could be there.
4) Read a novel. I have no idea what happened in the last forty-seven pages and a half, so now I am going to have to re-read it all.
And, naturally, since I'm feeling especially pathetic today, I'm going shopping for new tennis shoes. (My previous argument stands: I hate shopping; Whenever I go shopping, I will feel crappy; I already feel crappy; Might as well not ruin two days.)
But first things first, I'm going to the library. They've been closed due to renovations for the past few weeks, and, according to the sign on the door, they should be reopening the children's wing today!! I am simply ecstatic. I can deposit myself in an exhausted heap on the little pink couch while my kid creates merry havoc with the books and things, because, as we all know, librarians make excellent babysitters. (Don't tell them I said that, please.) If they got rid of the pink couch during renovations I may just cry.
Happy Tuesday. Or whatever day it is.
Addendum: I am not going shoe shopping today after all. I had difficulty walking to the door so I figured the bus stop would be out of the question. Also the library apparently doesn't open until tomorrow. Bummer.