I love analogies.
So far, I’m enjoying my first day of mini vacation, although the boyfriend woke me up at 6:30 to tell me I was supposed to be at work, then remembered that I was off and apologized, but I was only half asleep at that point anyway, since I had to pee and Moosh, the good son, has an incredibly astute sense of when Mommy has to pee so he purposefully (I swear, he only does it when I have to pee) steps on my bladder. I slept in till 7. This is ok, it’s better than 5:30, and to boot, I didn’t have to get dressed. I’ve been lounging around reading all morning (I turned on the TV for a bit but all the morning shows have crap about the Pope and as a recovering Catholic, NOT INTERESTED) except for some playtime with the kitties and coughing fits.
This sickness has a give and take relationship. Sure, the first few days I felt too icky to do anything, but “anything” included eating so it’s not as if I needed to work out. Now I’ve graduated to having my appetite back but I can’t really taste anything so as long as its warm, I’ll eat it, so I’m going with healthy options. Why waste tasty food on the tasteless? I vaguely considered working out this morning but I am afraid that the other gym-goers will rise up and kick my coughing ass out of there, even if I point out to them that I cover my mouth and that I’m not really sick anymore, it’s just the remnants working their mucus-y way out. However, I realized this morning that my abs are REALLY FREAKING SORE. I mean, “I took 5 pilates classes in a row” sore. This leads me to assume that I am burning MASSIVE amounts of calories coughing, and I might even get a 6-pack out of the deal! Now I’m thinking being sick isn’t SO bad. I’m not an eternal optimist, but I am a hopeful realist, so really, looking at the bright sides of crappy situations is just like a contingency plan.
As for the title of this post, I had an epiphany this morning, after a particularly productive coughing session. I felt like I’d accomplished something. I felt a little lighter. A little freer. And then I realized: THAT is how the kitties feel after the litter box. THAT is why they do the poop run. I would have done a lugie (is that how you spell it? Is that even a real word?) run except I thought that would make me cough more and therefore ruin the effects of the mucus expunging.
I can relate anything to anyone with an analogy. I love them.