Thursday, August 29, 2013
Day 90: Nothing I Thought Would Happen Happened
Instead, I worked an eight-hour day, sitting in my dining room editing, and began to feel very ill — achy, with a sore throat, and enough gastrointestinal distress that people probably wouldn't have wanted to stand near me at zumba. (TMI? Sorry.)
I thought I would take a hot bath for the achiness.
Instead, I swallowed a handful of Motrin and turned off my light by 10.
(I felt fine after a good night's sleep. Who knows. And I can make up the zumba class on Tuesday; the Italian Spitfire is very chill about things like that.)
I thought I would have a big job today, finish at 5, cook a meal for my family, and then take a walk for exercise.
Instead, the biggest part of my job fell through (not a problem, I really didn't want to sit at my computer any more), I was done at 2, and I watched The Office with Li'l Martini and the Gravity Falls marathon with the whole family while I sewed my son's wrestling dummy. (Its body is a pair of hot-pink long johns from Victoria's Secret and they keep stretching, so the poor dummy has a little pinhead and thunder thighs; Martini would prefer a more evenly proportioned wrestling partner.)
I did cook a fine meal, but by the time we'd finished eating it was too dark to walk. Plus I'm very full of Hungarian-style pork chops and roasted wax beans with sea salt. (It was hella good.)
So, not the greatest good-health behaviors for the past two days, I fear, and I don't expect an exciting weigh-in tomorrow. C'est la vie.
But in the land of good news, I really really really wanted to fix a cocktail while I cooked tonight, but it's Day 2 of my three-day medical abstinence period, so I abstained. I may be weak-willed, but I will fight to the death to protect my liver. (Why, it's practically my favorite organ!)
I won't be blogging for a few days because the kids and I* are taking our annual trip to our craptastic motel in Seabrook, N.H. I will sit by a pool for three days with an enormous pile of library books, sippin' Kendall Jackson and eating Honey Dew Doughnuts. Good times!
(I'll bring my sneaks and a couple of sports bras. The motel is right off the highway, I'm not sure if there's anywhere to walk — and there's nothing resembling a fitness room at this place, believe me — but I will scout the premises and see what I can find.)
Oh, and about the graphic for today? That was the #1 Google Image when I searched for "nothing I thought would happen happened," and it was too random to resist.
School starts on Tuesday, which means that my three beloved little darlings will finally be out of this house and leave me in blessed, blessed peace. I plan to make a pitcher of margaritas and dance about the house in my scanties!! My friend Sassy Jan says, "Some people would say that as a metaphor — but I believe that you actually plan to do it." Your mouth—> God's ear, sister-friend.
Happy Labor Day weekend, my peeps!
—Lady C, Granite State-bound
* Husband will stay home to feed the cats, bless his heart. He will also sleep in his own bed, something he hasn't done since July, my poor bronchitis-plagued baby. He's much better, but he's still coughing up his own spleen several times an hour. It's best we continue to sleep apart.
Except I'm kind of starting to love having my own room, so maybe he'd better hurry back. ☺
p.s. Shout out to my pal and new reader Bronwyn Editrix, who is recovering from Moh's surgery! As a sister survivor I feel your pain, my friend, and I'm sending warm speedy healing vibes your way.