My husband caught a cold while vacationing in warm, sunny climes. I didn’t!
Nursing him through two weeks of puniness, I lavished him with hugs and kisses and Echinacea and I still didn’t get sick.
Finally, the day he said, “I think I’m just about over this,” I came down with a sore throat. Next morning, well, it’s my turn and he’s not keen on kissing anymore.
It has been about ten days now and “I think I’m just about over this!”
For ten days, I have been wanting to do things and waiting to do them “when I am well.” My house is dusty, the bathtub is overdue for a scrubbing and there are cactus cuttings lying along the fence row awaiting collection and disposal.
I think being under the weather is great therapy for procrastinators. Curled up under an afghan, sipping Mullein tea, reading Edward Trencom’s Nose, I actually wanted to clean the bathtubs. I ached to get out there in the sunshine and wrestle those cactus spines into a plastic bag.
Today I am going to the gym for the first time in nearly two weeks. I dread it because I know my stamina isn’t what it should be. I’ll probably get sore muscles. I hope it doesn’t make me cough. Yet, it will be good to get back into my routine and feel normal again.
Yesterday I wrote a page for the devotional–the first in about two weeks. It felt good to be accomplishing something.
Thinking about all the things I was going to do “when I am well,” I think I’m going to be really busy for the rest of my life. Yee-haw!