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Perhaps it’s the germs talking…

…but I’m actually too sick to read. Too miserable to pay attention to someone else’s plot. Too out of sorts to make up my own. The only thing I’m excelling at at this moment is sucking at numerous things at one time. Is there an olympic medal for that?

I’m contemplating asking a friend to drive my kids to school tomorrow…but that would mean she’d have to see the inside of my van. And NO ONE can see the inside of my van. We’re almost at the “kill it with fire” stage of clutter. And now, I officially have the boys’ virus.

There are dirty clothes mocking me from the laundry room. Dishes that need to actually leave the dishwasher and return to the cupboard. But honestly, the kids can reach them more easily in the dishwasher — at least that’s the excuse I’m running with right now. It’s overwhelming in the biggest sense of the word.

I’m accustomed to short bouts of sick. They’re rough, but I can bounce back with a marathon laundry session and simply attacking the rest of the house with a garbage bag. But this…this… ICK I’ve been dealing with for the past two weeks has floored me. I’ve been tapping out frantically, but it still won’t let me up from the mat.

I can’t even find it in me to blame February. February is my go-to scape goat for the feeling of helpless inertia that seems to take hold this time of year. But usually it’s been cold, bleak and miserable for a month or so by now. Usually, February has done everything in its power make me hate it with the fiery heat of a thousand suns.

But not this year. This year, February’s been warm and bright and surprisingly wonderful. There have been 70 degree days that have popped up like tiny previews of spring. There are flowers in bloom. The kids have played outside for hours. It’s been amazing — and vaguely annoying. Because now there’s no scapegoat…unless you count my uterus.

I suppose my broke-down, tired, and soon-to-be-late uterus is to blame for most of my misery, although it doesn’t feel nearly as satisfying for some reason. In the grand scheme of things, it’s just a tiny, disposable meatball. At least February has some stage presence. It’s an official Proper Noun, for goodness sake. [Note: I just deleted the exclamation point at the end of that sentence. Because I’m TOO LETHARGIC for exclamation points…but thankfully I still have ALLCAPS]


And so, here I am, just one more intestinal event away from a complete descent into chaos. The good news is, in 2.5 hours, a new day starts. And who knows? I might have a burst of competence.

It’s another sunny day in February, so anything could happen.



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3 Responses

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  1. Anne Riley says

    HA. Oh, I know how you feel! All I can tell you is: things can only get better. Right?

  2. jodi says

    Right!! And we’ll keep repeating this to ourselves until we make it true. *hugs*

  3. pauline says

    I’ve been a bad friend…so sorry I missed out on all of this and didn’t join in on well wishes! my head’s been in the revisions. I suck. Forgive me and get better fast!

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