I have a cold. Of course, I have a cold. I just recently thought, “Gosh! I’ve been SO healthy this year. I haven’t had a cold or anything in a LONG time.” Stupid. And really, it has been miraculous that I’ve been cold-and-sick-free especially since two of my preschool students have literally shown up to music class for the last three Wednesdays oozing all sorts of green slime – for three weeks in a row! And with no end to the slime in sight!
Now, I like to think that I’m not TERRIBLY whiny about having a cold (unlike those who suffer from “Man Cold” – YouTube it). But I certainly do get creative when asked how I’m feeling (especially by Mike whose job as Spousal Unit is to offer unconditional love, support, sympathy and backrubs). I typically answer with: “I feel like I’ve been run over by (or sat upon, or danced a jig on by a…) fill in the blank.” Good ones are: a heard of runaway elephants, a semi-truck, a drunk and very obese pack/herd/grouping of evil Leprechauns (it was St. Patty’s Day yesterday, so you get extra credit for being seasonally accurate). Like at Christmas one could say: “I feel as though all of Santa’s reindeer have decided to run laps on my head.” (In the case of a head cold). Or for a headache at Thanksgiving: “I’m pretty certain that the entire Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade – complete with marching bands – has decided that my brain is the parade route this year.”
But it’s interesting how my tolerance level has changed a bit. Normally, on Thursday mornings, Zachary and I head to the gym where I attend the most kick-your-butt Spin class ever. Now, I’m debating if I have it in me. Five years ago I ran a freakin’ 26.2 mile marathon with a cold!! (Granted, I didn’t have a choice as it WAS race day). Tomorrow I’m supposed to run a measly 6-mile training run, and I’m already seeing how easy it would be to talk myself out of it. I could practically talk myself out of a run for a nasty hangnail these days!
And I’m supposed to go to the dentist today too. I’m way over due, so what difference will another week or so make? I mean, I figure they’d rather have me reschedule than attempt to breathe through my nose when I can’t really breathe through my nose and my mouth is all full of their hands ‘n stuff. I’d want me to reschedule if I were them – those dentist people that do all the teeth-handling work. Yeah, I think it’s in all of our best interest if I reschedule. And just stay in stretchy-at-home-comfy-clothes all day. And if I read. And write. And rest. Yeah, that sounds good. Tell life I’m calling in sick today.