Here I sit, feeling guilty for feeling a bit sick, but realizing (deep, deep down) that nobody's holding a gun to my head in order for me to be productive. Huh. I'm some kind of sadist, aren't I? But the frustrating part is that we already had one cold virus hit the family---now a second sort is having its way with us. I think I've had just about enough fun, you know?I'd like to just mosey through my day, expending as little energy as possible, setting a good example on how ill people should behave. Tea, a good pile of books and magazines, and cozy time on the sofa with Pugs.
What'll likely happen is that I'll continue loading/unloading the washer/dryer and will vacuum the living room rug (which has run amok with dog hair), disinfect the bathroom and doorknobs, and fall into bed at naptime and doze off.
Real mothering isn't anything like the pretend-in-our-heads sort, is it?!!
(photo from sxc.hu)
