I’m finally ready to admit the truth to you and to myself. I’m sick. I don’t feel well. I’m achy, congested and tired. Why is it so hard for me to admit this? For one thing, I generally think of sick people as folks who spend their days in a hospital with around the clock care. I’m not like that. I’ve been writing, acting, researching, attending functions and going out to eat. I’m fine. Yeah right. NOT!
So the real question here is how do I get well? One lady says, “Listen to your body.” Hmmm. Well, my body wants to lay around all day in pajamas watching reruns of The Golden Girls while sipping decaf coffee with a touch of whipped cream, two dark chocolate chunks and a sprinkle of cinnamon. My body has also been encouraging me to indulge myself on pistachio ice cream, sleep till noon, work on a two thousand piece puzzles, play with the animals, pick flowers, and read. Not once have I heard my body say anything that resembles work. Not one word about mowing the grass, sweeping the floor, organizing my office, cleaning the hall closet or taking a comb to my hair, which incidentally, appears to be running away from my face in every different direction. Work, doesn’t seem to be on my body’s mind right now.
To be honest, I’m afraid not to work. I’ve always worked whether I was sick or well. I’m afraid of becoming a lazy slob but I’ve decided to risk it this week as I rest. However, if you see me wearing my plaid pants, striped shirt combo for more than fifteen days in a row, it may be time for an intervention.