In Sickness and Health

I was going to work out this month. I had it mapped out. Walking, calisthenics (my own made-up Jazzercise revival). Workouts my lazy butt could actually do, they were on the agenda.

I was going to eat better this month. Inspiring cookbooks, my nutribullet, the works.

I was going to read more books. Long train rides to work means 2-3 books per week. I was all set.

But then the massive head cold that left me with no taste buds, making me spurn even the most awesome Sofia Loren pie from my local pizzeria – I couldn’t even finish half a slice!

The hacking cough, which made fellow subway riders so uncomfortable, I had plenty of places to sit, but all the guilt in the world. So, I stopped going to work (that’s what work from home is for!).

The flu, with the fever of 102 that left me delirious, wondering, “Am I on the toilet, or am I wetting the bed right now?”

Propped up in bed, so that I don’t choke on rivers of mucus and phlegm, a thousand forests weeping for the tissues I have blown to oblivion. I’m hungry, but it doesn’t matter. Everything tastes like feet.

I hadn’t even wanted to get dressed for 3 days, much less coddle my vanity with OOTD photo posting. Just the same oversized shapeless everything to feign comfort where misery reigned.

But today, I tried. I showered. I got dressed. And to my weary, infected body, my brain and my heart issue this edict:

We are not going down in this sniveling, snotty mess. We will enter the weekend year in a wave of awesome, not in a cloud of infection and farts.

Until then, here’s me in a sundress I’m wearing as nightgown/housedress and a traded cardigan, pretending to enjoy the sunshine from the inside while my face stings from constant nose blowing and while I try to forget I’m wearing adult diapers because I’m coughing so much I’m losing control of other body parts.

But I’m doing better! For reals.