*Apologies for this post. Still under the lingering effects of cold medicine.
I’m going to admit something here in the interest of full disclosure: I usually LOVE Mondays. Like, second favorite day of the week levels of love.
My son is back to school, so after a weekend of fun/chaos, I use Mondays to organize myself for the upcoming week. Meal planning, light cleaning, and usually a leisurely lunch with a friend. Yesterday, in anticipation of my first Me-Monday after two weeks of holiday break, I planned for a trip to the local craft dealership, Thai food with a friend, and cooking dinner for a few sweet ladies in my life.
Instead, I woke up to a 7am nosebleed and a fever. Awesome. I have not had a nosebleed since I was six years old, sitting in the backseat of my Aunt’s Buick, and I can say without any shame (statute of limitations and all) that it was from aggressive nosepicking of what must now be snot fossils buried between the worn upholstery of an opossum’s home in a junk yard. So back to the present, this morning’s nosebleed was disconcerting, especially when attached to the hacking cough so common to the seasonal “Kentucky Crud” that I appear to have caught over the holiday season. My plans went from planning and playing to Mucinex Fast-Max fueled drug naps in front of the television, making for some fantastic nightmares about the Rose Parade.
But as one of my goals this year is to complain less about minor illnesses, and the theme of this month’s posts centers around beginnings, this post is instead about something I’m beginning to have the idea of trying to embrace: Treating myself more gently, and with the respect I would treat any other human.
Yes, I laid about in a sad, mildly-hallucinogenic heap today. There’s some deep patheticness to that.
But, yay, I let myself lay about in a sad, mildly-hallucinogenic heap today,because I felt like shit and didn’t need to do anything else. Also, apparently Mucinex Fast-Max reacts really interestingly with my system. Made for a bizarre mid-morning watching the parade floats on HGTV. So many colors. And that inch worm from the Rotary Club (I think) was giving me a weird vibe.
Back to the point. Ordinarily, I would push through illnesses, making myself sicker, becoming bitchier to my husband and more impatient with my kid than necessary, because I couldn’t let myself off the hook for half a day to heal. Today, I gave into the sloth, and though my nose is still running, I’m still exhausted, and perhaps forever freaked out by maybe-Rotary-Club inchworms, I feel better than I would have if I’d pushed bravely through for no damn reason.
And most importantly, when I’m gentle with myself, it’s much easier for me to be gentle with all the other people in my life. Even if faster healing isn’t reason enough, being a better wife, mom, and friend surely fucking is.