Reader alert: the following content may contain extensive whining. I hate being sick. Mostly because for me it isn't one day in bed, relaxing with a good book. Just when I'm feeling great, my jeans are finally fitting, I get sick again. It can mean up to a week or more of not being able to exercise. And I get envious of those people who doesn't feel like eating when I don't feel good.
Because I, on the other hand, crave chocolate and carbs.
So today, to try to derail that hand-to-mouth action, especially the unbidden tastes of leftover frosting from Barry's father's day cake that Emily and Megan made (I had to reassure them that the cakes that fall apart taste the best.) I'm going to write out what's bugging me and find some other ways to soothe myself. A hot bath, a book maybe. Let go of still trying to take care of everyone and everything even though I'm sick.
And later, when I really am hungry, and I don't mean the hunger to feel better, I'm going to sit down, relax, and enjoy some cake.