Lesson One on Living Slow: Being Sick

Let me just say this, I hate being sick. I'm not sure that there is one redeemingly glamorous thing about it. Mucus, red nose, dry lips, unmade up face, and that, "I feel worse than I look" look in your vacant eyes. However, I have prided myself over the past few years as having a remarkable immune system. I got sick, sure, but give me one day, two doses of cough syrup, a ton of sleep, and I was golden. Back in action the next day.

I must recant.

It started Tuesday. I felt stuffy. I'd been fighting it for a while. In my head, I convinced myself that my nose ring was preventing my slight cold from healing. But, suddenly, on Tuesday, I thought that new levels of mucus had arrived. Then, Wednesday, it got worse. I sounded sick and was exhausted. I went to work at my first job, but was exhausted, and called in to my second job. I laid on the couch and watched a lifetime movie with Kristen Stewart. I took a nap, watched American Idol, ate rice, dragged myself to the McNellie's to celebrate Lauren's birthday, albeit lacklusterly on my part, and then went right back to bed. Thursday, I drug myself to class, but after 3 hours of only being able to breathe out of my mouth, I called my mom, who instructed me to, "Go home, take nyquil, and sleep as long as you can." So I did. I got an email from my grandma instructing me of appropriate medicinces, and slept for 4 hours, woke up, ate some soup and watched the Office and went to sleep again. Friday, I started feeling better, but got tired quickly, and kept remembering my mom's admonishments to, "Take it easy," and "Don't over do it," I skipped out on my first job, and went to the second, and then babysat. Finally, Saturday, I was just plain mad about still being sick. I called mom and afforded her of every single home remedy she knew, and I did them all. I took cough syrup with expectorant, I vick vapor rubbed feet and chest, I took cold medicine, I slept, I sprayed warm salt water up my nose, I drank hot lemon salt water, I took vitamin C out the wazoo, and I slept some more.

And today, I woke up feeling better. Good enough to meet a friend for lunch and laugh about the twist up emotionality of men and women these days. Still, I remember my mom's words, and I remember my own desire to live slow. So, I am trying. It's not easy. It feels natural to fill up every second of my day and mind with activity. But, sometimes, it's nice, to just sit. To just be.

That, and I'm really excited for my birthday which is in just under 3 weeks.

This post was largely pointless, and I'll try to say something more entertaining soon.