I went for my first swim in a week this evening. Having been poorly for so long I've missed it so much even though my hair and skin have enjoyed a break from being doused in chlorine. As a bonus the lovely manicure I had last Wednesday has lasted a week which never happens due to almost daily dips. Even better I had the pool to myself and it was so nice to be able to go at my own pace and not rush while I was able to steadily reintroduce my body to the exercise while supporting my aching muscles.
I'm rubbish at being ill. I don't sit still or go to bed early, or rest. Hubbie tells me to get to bed and sleep to feel better and I just don't. This evening I got in from work and my legs were all wobbly from being hungry, tired and just generally panicking about the state of the house. I haven't cooked properly in a week. The house is a mess. I've been too tired to vacuum the cat hair off the stairs. The washing has been piling up in the laundry basket and I looked at my wardrobe in despair this morning as every item of clothing looked like the cat had slept on it. To be fair he probably has.
It's hardly surprising that I've been knocked out like this really. I've been flat out since this year started. There's been something big going on almost every weekend. Either taking our boy to a kid's party o preparing for and taking part in the danceathon, then the pamper day the other week. Finally all this was behind me and I had a few days to catch up with things at home. The problem with days off is that I fill every waking moment with things to do. A typical day might include an early morning swim, picking up some furniture for the boy's room then coming home to build it. Shopping for the week and putting it all away. Sorting those boxes that have been taking up all the space in the spare room. Preparing dinner, folding the washing and finding time to write.
It's hardly surprising that my body has given in and packed up for a week really. I knew there was something wrong when it took me 4 days to fold a basket of laundry. Then I fell asleep on the sofa before 9 in the evening. I went to bed and woke up feeling like I'd been hit in the face with a large frying pan. Instead of taking a few days off work I carried on going in as I knew there was a lot to do and I even delivered training yesterday and today despite the risk of losing my voice at any moment. And now ?
Well, I'm not going into work for a while now so I hope to get round to sorting out the boxes. To folding the washing. To making a meal from scratch for a change. Maybe even getting out to the garden if the weather is good. More than anything I'm looking forward to my boy being off school so I can spend some time with him. So long as I'm not too tired to do that, that's all that matters.