I don't like to write about being sick. Nobody likes to hear (or read) anyone whine about being sick, and i think that posts about being sick tend to make readers feel obligated to post some well-wishing in response to the whining. (Please don't feel that.)
But since i have entertained blog silence for two whole days, i thought i should say hello.
Yesterday was a fog of minor abdomenal violence, ice cold fingers and toes, burning eyes, a vague but annoying headache, and sporadic ear pain. I attempted to do as little as possible while piling as many layers of clothes on as i could find.
When my husband got home, i'm not sure he was convinced that i was sick. The obvious outward symptoms, i imagine, appeared to be resolute laziness and blanket obsession. At one point, he asked me, "what exactly is wrong with you?" Ha! I understood. It was one of those things that's hard to explain.
Until this morning when my darling came home from work early and foggily explained his symptoms as a "six foot radius of 'slow,'" and "an annoying head thing." Now i totally understand.
I always feel so bad for passing illness on to my husband.
I continued to sleep, even after he came home, started trying to rouse myself around 9:00, and i think i was upright and dressed by about 9:45. Between the two of us, we managed to knock out 15 minutes of chores (normally done by one person) in 45 minutes or so. We're an energetic bunch today.
The good news is that when i finished up with feeding and watering chickens and rabbits and Jelly, and i came in the house, the thought occurred to me that i should attempt to not live in absolute squalor today. This is good news because yesterday, i didn't notice (or care about) the squalor. I have now managed to do most of the dishes, and while i am now about ready for a nap (after my morning of hard labor), i think this must be a sign that i'm on my way out of this dumpy sickness.
Poor GSSH. He's just getting started. I pray his will be abbreviated.