Have I mentioned that I hate being sick? It’s not that I am miserable, because I could deal with that by laying in bed and reading and napping. It’s not that no one bothers to send flowers online, since I can’t smell them anyway. The problem is this: I live with a lot of little people. We make a lot of laundry and a lot of dishes. Now, my teens can pick up some slack, but they can’t do it all. And so the mess just keeps piling up. And that would not be quite so bad, except that I did finally start to make headway with the underlying unorganized disorder right before I got sick, and I have watched all that progress slip away these last 7 days. THAT is aggravating in the extreme.
I am supposed to be resting today. But I can’t stand it anymore. I must get the living room in vacuum-able condition before I go stark, raving mad up in here. You don’t want to see that, people. I’m just sayin’
And yes, I am still writing, everyday.