That was me all weekend.
Except I was under a bright purple slanket (Snuggie to those of you who don’t love Liz Lemon). And the couch was covered in dog hair. And a baby was poking me in the eye. Also, I only got to actually lie like that in between running regular weekend errands and chasing a surprisingly fast rug-rat. But, basically, the picture above describes how my days ‘off’ went down.
Being sick is the pits. I was grumpy and achy and just plain miserable.
And isn’t it always when you’re sick that suddenly you feel the need to do everything in the world? While sick, I looked up half-marathons I wanted to run, admired charities that other people have recently started, planned every little detail of the baby’s first birthday party, and pinned all sorts of home improvement tweaks and decor ideas. It’s like as soon as I know I can do nothing but sniffle and sneeze, suddenly I want to do it all. And it makes being sick so much worse. (Insert world’s tiniest violin.)
Of course, now that I’m in the foggy aftermath of Nyquil – walking that fine line between under-the-weather and feeling grrrreeaat! – I can feel reality settling in. My long list of ‘When I get better I’m gonna …’ is quickly losing it’s appeal. Meh.
I’m hoping to hang on to a shred of motivation to do a few of the things I planned, but for now I’m just happy that I can breath with my mouth closed.
How about you … do dream big when you’re sick?