on desiring better health, more energy, more laughter, and less tooth decay.

March 12, 2008

I woke up with a sore throat two days ago. I’m fighting valiantly with Zicam, Airborne, Umcka. This is the fourth time I’ve been sick this winter—or maybe technically the second time. Early December, I was rendered immobile by a cold/flu, and after healing I got sick again two weeks later. I think it may be more of an aftershock sickness, like this one. My body seemed to have recovered but the virus must have been lingering. I’ve been so tired, so fatigued for several days now. Getting out of bed at seven feels like getting out of bed at three. I had an all-day headache, which I never have, and am constantly fighting listlessness.

I figured the recent forty-degree weather would lift my spirits this morning, so I donned my new Ann Taylor Burberry-ish spring coat, the first patterned coat I’ve ever had, and walked the ten-minute walk to the bus stop. I was breathing deeply and savored—gasp!—birdsong. The sidewalk was extremely treacherous—half-melted slick patches of ice every fifty feet or so. I wore my black boots that I got in London years ago, which didn’t have much traction in the first place, and are now the equivalent of completely bald tires. I actually fell halfway through my walk, right as two cars streamed by me, and landed on my hands, my butt hovering above the ice and my pristine coat remaining unscathed. I’m glad I was able to pick myself up and laugh. A few days ago, I spattered hot Rahmen noodles on my hand and blackened the garlic bread (all within three minutes) and had to escape to the bathroom quick to wipe my tears…instead of, well, yknow, laugh about it.

I also laughed to myself when, on the bus, I heard Hanson’s “MMMBop” blaring from the earbuds of someone sitting directly behind me. I was hoping it was a businessman, but there was no way I could find out without turning around pointedly.

I was smiling when I kissed Marshall good-bye this morning, as he is pretty funny when he awakes mid-sleep—the sharp intake of breath, the half-closed eyes, the lifting up on his elbows from the warm cocoon of blankets, the glorious hair pointing every which way, the multiple emphatic slurred I loves you’s and Have a good day’s. He was up at 4 AM yesterday, for the early morning shift at Caribou, then had an intense 3-hour USPS mail carrier exam in St. Paul. We weren’t able to get supper done until 8 PM, and as he finished he stated he was so tired he felt cross-eyed. He fell asleep on the couch at 8:45.

It makes me wonder sometimes how we’ll make it as parents. (I’m not pregnant, just thinking ahead.) We both need lots of sleep and I already fear the idea of getting up multiple times throughout the night to nurse/soothe. Maybe I’ll watch Will Ferrell movies as I rock the kid back to sleep so I can, well, laugh, which probably wouldn’t be too hard to provoke in my drunken-sleepy state.

In other thrilling news, I get my first filling tomorrow. Kindof a sad day, but I guess it’s good that I’ve gone twenty-four years with no cavities.

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2 Responses to “on desiring better health, more energy, more laughter, and less tooth decay.”

  1. Brenna said

    I had to comment about the MMMBop, since I was such a devoted fan for so many years. Don’t scoff at the possibility of it being a businessperson–I still listen to Hanson–though I definitely prefer their later stuff! :)

  2. cjpb said

    If you forgive me for scoffing, I’ll forgive you for being a Hanson fan. :)

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