Today marks a week now that our house has been shut down to flu, sinus colds, and pink eye. The children are starting to feel better; Atticus will finally go to school tomorrow. But, me, well, I can barely speak and have yet to call my Grandma to tell her Happy Birthday or to call the couple I'm marrying this Friday to confirm that the wedding is still on. Arghh. Hopefully tomorrow I'll sound better.
Here's one of my infrequent moments of self-pity. They tend to be infrequent because I find them useless. Can't accomplish anything when you're just sitting there feeling sorry for yourself, all of your emotions and focus swirled around how miserable you are. Better, I think, to cut the crap and do something to fix the problem, there's always a solution. Granted, sometimes the solution doesn't seem much better than that which caused this downward spiral of misery, but sometimes just trying to work out a solution, no matter how ridiculous, thinking it through to the end, is enough for us get our heads on straight again.
My moment of pity has already passed. Hard to dwell on feeling miserable when you're sick, because there's too many distractions (i.e. got to get up and blow your nose, must get another cup of tea, have to steal back the bag of cough drops from your toddler, must go pee because the baby just kicked you in the bladder and it's only 10am and you've already had three cups of tea...) On that note, off to blow my nose again.
Throwing the Bones
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