Ruminations of a Sick Mind

I've spent the last couple days battling sickness. Stayed home today, too. Spent most of the day stretched out on the couch under a blanket and swearing that I was skirting fever. Television was on, surfing between small-claims court shows like Judge Judy and news. Sorting through text messages from concerned well-wishers. Sleeping. I did nothing much of anything much and that bugged me because I already don't have the time to get done the stuff I need to get done, though if the economy dives anymore and a layoff becomes the standard MO, I could have a lot of time to do just that.

Zoning out gave me a lot of time to think. Christmas is around the corner, and I have relatives coming to visit soon after. Other things are causing me stress, and as a friend recently said, "If you don't knock the stress out of your life, it will knock the life out of you."

Lack of sleep. Not-so-great diet. Stress. It's a recipe for disaster, and I think this cold knocking me out so easily is a sure sign that a knock out is coming.

I do need more sleep. Obvious. Necessary. Late nights and bad dreams do their best to ensure that more sleep is not coming any time soon.

Not-so-great diet? That I can easily change, and am starting to. More fresh foods. More organic. More variety. It feels good to eat real food again. I wonder if there was something to that woman on the bus telling me that the food we eat leads to mental illness?

Stress. Now there is the biggie, and I believe it also affects my sleep. Stress. I've been told I stress about things I can't control, though I believe that is only partially true. I don't stress about asteroids, but I do worry about the budget. One I can plan around and seems more likely to affect me, while the other is just a random act that I really can't do anything about and it seems ridiculous to plan around.

But this is going in circles. I've written about all this before. I briefly entertained the idea of throwing up my hands and using one of those great platitudes you see on the bumpers of rusted out stations wagons. "One day at a time." "Pobody's Nerfect." "Follow Your Bliss." "Let Go and Let God."

Yeah. I missed my lobotomy appointment.

So what did I learn in this fever-lite state? Not much. I opened my mouth for the Knowledge Communion and all I got was slapped in the face. The enlightenment I was looking for turned out to be nothing more than what I already knew.

So be it. At least I'm working on my self-imposed isolation stuff more. I'm being more social, which leads to me hearing some wonderful theories on my psyche and what I should be doing with my life.

Follow your bliss, indeed.

1 comment:

Nikki said...

I despise grammatically incorrect bumper stickers such as "Pobody's Nerfect." I want to slam into the back of their car, put them through their window and as their grammatically incorrect heads are hanging on by a mere bundle of nerves I'll walk up, shrug and sheepishly say "woopsy, pobody's nerfect!" I can handle the silly religious platitudes far more than the cutesy misspellings. I hate cutesy misspellings. Honest spelling and grammar errors are one thing. Actually striving to look like a simple-minded moron is another. Grrrrrrrr.