I'm sick.
I hate being sick.
When I was little, my mother told me that "hate" was a strong word. I've said the same thing to my five year-old, but I can guiltlessly state here that I hate being sick.
Firstly, because it causes me to stop. Everything. Especially right now, in the midst of moving and planning, during the week that I'm supposed to be helping my sister-in-law clear out her house in preparation for a garage sale. And I haven't finished remodeling my in-laws' guest bathroom. It's just sitting there, hooks unhung, tile uncaulked, paint un...painted. And I'm in bed. I hate that.
When I get sick, I get pathetic. Usually because it takes a lot of pain to actually get me to stop. I've had two babies, so I have a good point of reference. So when I'm the kind of sick that makes me stop, I'm really sick. And I've been really sick for five days now, with a grossly sore throat. The kind that you can't help but feel every time you breathe. And I have to breathe. All day.
I also get complain-y. Can you tell?
Of course, I usually get sick when I'm doing too much. I think that my body has an under-the-table agreement with infectious viruses, which states that whenever it doesn't want to keep up with my oft-full mental timetable, it can call on said viruses to make me stop.
Clearly, I got the message.
But that doesn't mean that I have to like it.
I can put some of the blame of genetics, in that my grandmother is the same non-stop way, but I think that my challenge is balancing this way of being with the chaotic style of our times.
For instance, right now, my internal self is having a war-of the-roses style battle - should I take this little burst of feeling-better energy and help my in-laws finish their house? I feel terrible because I helped to make the mess, by leaving things undone, but at the same time, I feel terrible because I'm sick. I think my body wins. At least for now.
I suppose all of this reflection time has helped me become more aware of how I function in the world, too. I am very good at doing things, but it is very difficult for me simply to be. I don't think that either is better than the other, but I think that there must be a balance of the two for sanity's sake. And by balance, I mean that each individual must find what mix of the two is best for her/himself. My husband, for example, is a very good be-er, and thinks through things quite thoroughly. I don't think that he would mind me saying that doing is often his weakness. I am the exact opposite, which is why we are good for one another. Each encourages the other to practice that attribute at which s/he is most deficient.
Anyhow, I haven't gone in to clear up the room, nor have I painted even a wall today. I have sat upon this couch all day, and reflected and distracted and watched Blue's Clues on Netflix with my girls. It has been rather nice, actually. I don't know if I could do it every day (in fact, I know I couldn't), but it is nice to do once in a while.
So, thanks, you nasty virus. I may be sour grapes, but at least I've mulled a bit.
I hate being sick.
When I was little, my mother told me that "hate" was a strong word. I've said the same thing to my five year-old, but I can guiltlessly state here that I hate being sick.
Firstly, because it causes me to stop. Everything. Especially right now, in the midst of moving and planning, during the week that I'm supposed to be helping my sister-in-law clear out her house in preparation for a garage sale. And I haven't finished remodeling my in-laws' guest bathroom. It's just sitting there, hooks unhung, tile uncaulked, paint un...painted. And I'm in bed. I hate that.
When I get sick, I get pathetic. Usually because it takes a lot of pain to actually get me to stop. I've had two babies, so I have a good point of reference. So when I'm the kind of sick that makes me stop, I'm really sick. And I've been really sick for five days now, with a grossly sore throat. The kind that you can't help but feel every time you breathe. And I have to breathe. All day.
I also get complain-y. Can you tell?
Of course, I usually get sick when I'm doing too much. I think that my body has an under-the-table agreement with infectious viruses, which states that whenever it doesn't want to keep up with my oft-full mental timetable, it can call on said viruses to make me stop.
Clearly, I got the message.
But that doesn't mean that I have to like it.
I can put some of the blame of genetics, in that my grandmother is the same non-stop way, but I think that my challenge is balancing this way of being with the chaotic style of our times.
For instance, right now, my internal self is having a war-of the-roses style battle - should I take this little burst of feeling-better energy and help my in-laws finish their house? I feel terrible because I helped to make the mess, by leaving things undone, but at the same time, I feel terrible because I'm sick. I think my body wins. At least for now.
I suppose all of this reflection time has helped me become more aware of how I function in the world, too. I am very good at doing things, but it is very difficult for me simply to be. I don't think that either is better than the other, but I think that there must be a balance of the two for sanity's sake. And by balance, I mean that each individual must find what mix of the two is best for her/himself. My husband, for example, is a very good be-er, and thinks through things quite thoroughly. I don't think that he would mind me saying that doing is often his weakness. I am the exact opposite, which is why we are good for one another. Each encourages the other to practice that attribute at which s/he is most deficient.
Anyhow, I haven't gone in to clear up the room, nor have I painted even a wall today. I have sat upon this couch all day, and reflected and distracted and watched Blue's Clues on Netflix with my girls. It has been rather nice, actually. I don't know if I could do it every day (in fact, I know I couldn't), but it is nice to do once in a while.
So, thanks, you nasty virus. I may be sour grapes, but at least I've mulled a bit.
2 comments:
What a layabout! Get up and get back to work. Gosh, you young people are lazy.
Love,
Uncle John
Hope you feel better soon, Lizzy! Take it easy - there's always another day to get things done. It must be hard to be sick with two little ones running around. Luckily, I've only been mildly sick a couple of times since having Trevor, so I don't have any frame of reference.
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