Monday, November 12, 2007

Retreat to Monosyllabic Stupor

There may be something to the monosyllabic stupor idea. Certainly less responsibility. After all, if compound words are impossible, then surely no one can expect complex multiclause sentences or thoughts from my muddled brain.

Today's annoying realization? What I thought was the normal thundering descent of seasonal allergies upon my sinuses is a cold. Which ticks me off. Or, to be more grammatically correct about it, it "ticks off me." Yes, it's annoying to feel crummy (or have the "creeping crud," as my dad says). It's tiring, frustrating, and all of that, but I'm most annoyed because it's my own dang fault.

(No, I did not imitate Phoebe from Friends in an attempt to get my singing voice all sexy and low. And if you've seen that episode, rest assured that is not how I got sick! And if you know me at all, you know I CANNOT sing. Twenty years of Girl Scouts and I still sound like something caught in bear trap.)

Back to our regularly scheduled blog entry...

Although I didn't seek out the germs that are now vigorously tap-dancing above my left eye while wearing steel-toed workboots, I practically sent them an embossed invitation. Here we go folks, I'm going to work too hard, stress too much, move too fast, sleep too little, put up with getting verbally body slammed, and just throw open the barn doors for all of those things that thrive on exhausted minds and bodies.

In college, I got sick right after finals every semester. Like clockwork. I often had Kleenex in tow for spring break. I'd push myself to the limit and then as soon as my body got a chance to sit on a metaphorical park bench and check out a few passing clouds? WHAMMO!

I'm 39 years old. I should know better by now. HA!!! Old dog. New trick. Self-care. HA! Honestly, I am better at it than I once was. Or I thought I'd improved. But then I looked at my vacation balance online. Maxed out. No, I haven't used it all. I've stopped accruing because I haven't taken enough. I think the scientific term is dumbass.

All the self-deprecation in the world won't cure the common cold or buy a plane ticket to a warm beach. Or even a snowy mountain. Or a warm desert.

Once this cold finishes kicking my ass, I need to join in and schedule vacation time. Plan escape. Book a massage. Lose my to-do list (but not the one from this paragraph). Slow the HECK down. Ugh. Alas. Waaaah.

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