Friday, March 24, 2006

What is the time frame here?

How long does a person have to feel like death warmed over, before they can go whine to the doctor even if they believe that they have is a virus and nothing can be done anyway? It has been since the 12th. My throat hurts. My head hurts. My ears hurt. My stomach hurts. I have little appetite and when I do eat I immediately regret it. The fever is gone, thank goodness. Shivering in one's sleep while covered in a doubled goosedown duvet is not fun, I don't care what people say. Okay, people don't say, but you know what I mean. I can think of nothing better than lying on the couch sipping tea and watching daytime tv, nothing more strenuous than that. Of course, we all know that is not going to happen. Mothers aren't allowed to get sick. We have breakfasts and lunches and dinners to make. Groceries to buy. Sleeping bags to find, and sleepovers to go to. There is laundry and floors and toilets that need scrubbed. Animals and children that need bathing. Bedtime stories to read. It doesn't help that I am going through some other issues as well. Marital issues. Bad bad, very bad things. Maybe it is some kind of cosmic theme. My life is falling apart at the same time as my mind and body. This is part of our patio. Disregard the foil-covered pot that blew over. I check that little maple tree daily for signs of budding, because I am freezing my tuchus off and want to believe that spring is really here. Other trees have been fooled into unfurling early, then damaged by frost. But not this little maple, no sir. It is always the last to leaf out, and the last to lose all it's leaves in the fall. It used to be over 6 feet tall and winding. Then one spring we had terrible ice storms, one after another. And the entire top of the tree died off. There were like two branches left living. We decided to remove the dead part and see what happened. There was a sudden explosion of branches, as it reached outwards. It had been trained into a thin winding thing, but all along it longed to spread out to hold the sun. You could say that the ice storms helped it find it's inner beauty, the form it was meant to have. Maybe, just maybe, the troubles I am having right now are like those ice storms, trying to prune me and goad me into branching out and finding my true potential. We love this tree so much, when we had the patio poured, we made them pour AROUND it. I joke about tapping it, and making like a tablespoon of maple syrup to put in a special coloured glass vial and wear around my neck. But that would just be weird.

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