Why the hell am I up at three thirty in the morning? I could try to explain that but it would just be too embarrassing. No, I didn’t wet myself or anything else of that type. I will tell you that again, thanks to a small person or two, I’m sick and woke up after my fever broke. OK, you wake up feeling like you’ve just been in a wet t-shirt contest and you get the idea.
Now before anybody out there gets the idea that’s something they would like to have seen, you don’t. Remember I’m old. A wet t-shirt on me is like you spreading a wet flour sack over a big bag of potatoes and if you think that might be a lovely sight then kudos to you.
Once awake you find yourself so stopped up and miserable that the idea of going back to bed it just too much to deal with. I think I’m going to start taking a page out a certain part of the world’s population and start wearing face mask every time I go out. I’m going to have to replace the hand sanitizer I carried in my purse because I gave my last one to someone I thought needed it more than I did at the time. Boy was I wrong on that one. Kick me for not replacing it when I should have. So here I am now at 3:43 in the morning, not getting any sleep, a box of tissues close by, giving a whole to meaning to the term mouth breather, and feeling like crap. Go Me.
No one should be drinking coffee this time of the morning, unless their headed to work really early, but here I am. Maybe I should have put something a little stronger than just the coffee in it.
Right now I’m wondering how much sanitizing can my new laptop take before it says screw you and jumps ship. It certainly didn’t sign on for this.
I like everyone else hates being sick. It sucks. I have to applaud all those grandparents who can’t seem to get enough of their lovely grandchildren when, for me it seems like sometimes I get too much. I don’t remember it being like this when I was just a parent. Maybe because I so too busy taking care o a sick child I didn’t have time to get sick too often. Boy, that present a serious conundrum. Do I prefer to take care of one and not get sick or not take care of one and ending up sick as a dog? Neither at my age sounds like a great option.
Seriously though, I’ve had to go and take care of one of my daughters while she was sick a couple of times in the past two years and I never even got the sniffles. If you think of caring for a small child who is sick is a job, try taking care of a grown one. They get mean and because they are sick thinks it’s OK. I mean what is the parent going to do, spank them? I was tempted a couple of times. I didn’t, but I was tempted.
Looking back on it maybe it isn’t such a hard choice after all. I actually got to spend time with her and she had to be a captive audience, mean or not. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t so bad. Somehow it made me feel young again, go figure, and like a mom in a way I don’t get to do much anymore. I guess we never stop being a parent.
Anyway, I think I’m going to take my pity pot and try to lay back down. I probably won’t, but I’m going to try. Now I have an old series on TV, really old, and I may end up watching a few episodes of that. If you’re interested the old series is Dark Shadows. Most of you will only be familiar with the movie with Johnny Depp in it. It didn’t even come close to the series I’m talking about the one from 1966, so yes, I’m old.