I attended a work breakfast the other day. As I sat down with my coffee, I chatted up the other gals at the table. It’s nice to be with other women, since I spend the majority of my days around men. The gals talked about prepping the food and other work happenings.
“I have to ask this.” She put her hand on my arm and looked deep into my eyes.
“Susan, do you ever sleep?” She laughed at her own joke.
Dear readers, this was not a query on my early-to-bed, early-t0-rise philosophy.
“It’s the Nyquil,” I replied. One of the lesser-known side effects is Nyquil’s ability to drain color from your face. True story. It helps you sleep. Yet when you arise, you look like death. Seems a fair trade off. I had tried to mitigate the damage with cover-up and extra blush. Guess it didn’t take. I should mention a couple of other coworkers made similar comments throughout the week. Yes, I let them all live.
I’m getting over this sickness. It simply takes awhile. Every day I feel a little better. I can breathe through my nose. That should count for something. I have a lingering cough. I need rest, which work and training for a half marathon takes away from. I plan on getting some this weekend.
Changing takes time. I didn’t become a runner overnight. It took time and practice and sweating and sometimes days off. I didn’t learn to play the flute in a day. That took years of blowing into a metal tube, fighting dizziness, and memorizing fingering charts. I learned notes and dynamic markings and rhythms. Well, I’m still working on the rhythm piece. But I’m decent.
The point is that moving from one state of being to another usually isn’t instantaneous. Unless you’re Spider-Man, which I’m not. I will employ patience and give my body what it needs as I transition to a healthier place. Maybe, given enough time, and if I spin around, I can become…