My Humps

My fever broke last night, after five days of sickness, three of which were spent in bed. Sometimes the flu feels like it’s endless. I mean how much can a person sleep? Apparently, quite a lot.

During my moments of lucidity, I had time to think, to cry, to be depressed and to be thankful. Not necessarily in that order. I did mention the fever, right? I mean, the people who know me, know that I’m not much of a crier. My middle son once asked me why he had never seen me cry. I told him that I didn’t know, but I really do. I think I feel like I never want to be “that girl”. You know the one…the over-emotional dramatically inclined girl – but yet sometimes,  I wish I were “that girl”. I think “that girl” gets sick less often, because she is able to ditch whatever she is holding in, onto others – or with her tears on a tissue, or pillow – wherever the crying girls leave that stuff. Maybe “that girl” is smarter than I give her credit for.

Either way, the past three days, I cried. A lot. I cried reading kind messages from my best friends, I cried watching movies that are generally not my cup of tea, I cried over my recent broken heart, and I cried over the knowledge that nothing is permanent. It was all very dramatic. Privately, of course.

This year has been a very difficult year for my family and me. There have been a lot of changes, which is uncommon for us. We lived in the same house for many years, had the same routine for many years, and had the same Christmas for many years. Until we didn’t. For the first time I can remember, I am truly looking forward to a New Year, and in some ways I was thankful for this flu. Even on Day Two of this flu, I knew I was thankful.  It felt like a necessary release of a lot of negativity that I have been stuffing down. Figuratively and Literally.

Somehow throughout the year, I have also managed to gain 25 pounds. This is unusual for me, as I have been a distance runner for a number of years. However, I have managed to pack it on.  I have added this on top of my things to feel weighted down (pun intended) with, emotionally.

Something changed for me, when my fever broke. Normally, I get out of my bed, check myself in the mirror and cringe a little.  I have been doing that for quite a while. Today, I woke up, feverless, looked in the mirror and felt grateful. Really, I don’t have any rolls. I carry my weight in my legs and my booty. My stomach stays flat. I mean, how lucky am I? I did a little booty dance, decided if I could still fit into my gorgeous wardrobe and  run at my normal pace with the extra luggage,  I would keep the junk in my trunk.

Besides the aesthetics of my big ass, I am quite grateful to be able to get out of bed, and make meals for my children who sustained on  cereal and cheese pizza for multiple, consecutive meals, for the first time in their young lives. You know what? We all are Ok. We are actually better than Ok. I mean, how lucky are we? I guess I just needed a reminder.

 

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