Being sick on a Saturday has got to be one of the first world’s biggest disappointments. Saturday is supposed to be the day I get things done. It’s supposed to be the day that I clean the house and make something for the blog. It’s supposed to be the day that I get to spend time doing something fun with my husband. It’s a day I look forward to all week.
This Saturday, I spent the entire day in bed watching Family Ties and napping until Geoff came home with an Odwalla juice and some macadamia nuts. I had a single piece of toast for dinner. I was completely miserable and useless the entire day. And I felt guilty about it. I worried all day about the house and the cupcakes I was supposed to be making. I felt bad for making Geoff bring me water and keeping him in all night. It was really rather horrible.
Also, just so you know, apparently if you chew pepto bismol tablets and then fall asleep without brushing your teeth, when you wake up, your spit will be black. Don’t freak out. You’ll Google it and realize you’re not dying. It’s gonna be okay.
I’m such a huge baby when I’m sick. I can’t go anywhere. I can’t do anything. Except whine. But that doesn’t really count.