sick sickies from sickertown

Some people have a rockin' stellar threshold for pain.
I am not one of those people.
I'm such a wuss when it comes to anything uncomfortable I've never even had my eyebrows waxed.
I haven't so much as plucked a hair.
And I have no intention to.

I'm also one of those people who takes the bandaid off one painfully slow ripped piece of skin at a time.
I don't wanna get it done quick and dirty.
I wanna ease myself into it.
I'm a big baby, is what I am.

So imagine my joy in waking up to what is now DAY FIVE of this wretched viral plague.
I know, in the grand scheme of life five days is a paltry, frivolous amount of time.
But I'm so damn sick of spending all day alone.
And I'm so damn sick of lacking the energy to do anything, save for reading, writing, and watching movies.

I swear once I'm feeling better the first thing I'm going to do is go for a run.
Just because I have the energy to do it.
I don't even care if it's raining.
In fact, I kinda hope it is.

Mama told me I need to not let stress get to me so much.
And Grandma told me if I believe He will heal me, He will.

I don't think there's anybody who wants me to be well more than I.
I CAN'T STAND BEING ILL.

I feel so helpless and pathetic when I'm this sick.
And it only seems to happen to me at the most inopportune times.
I remember when I moved last year and then Mr. Volcano broke up with me and then I got the worst flu in possibly my entire life.
Life sucked balls then.
It didn't just rain, it tsunamied.

Thankfully though, when you're this far gone, it's the little things that really brighten your day.

I had my first cup of coffee in nearly a week and regardless of that layer of sickness coating my tongue it was the most delicious thing I've sipped in days.
I woke up this morning feeling like the pudding in my ears has finally drained and while I still lack the strength to stand for more than ten minute increments, I know I'm getting stronger.

Overcoming something that zaps the entirety of your strength makes all else life throws your way seem like a simple feather in comparison.

Surely when I'm finally well enough to get back to being a part of the world beyond my living room, I'll be so grateful to be there I won't even care who missed me and who hadn't noticed I was gone.

Simply being there will be enough.
And I'm counting down the hours 'till I can muster the strength to stand amidst it all once again.