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MAR
07

The Upside of Sick

I've never been a very athletic person (my only attempt to be a member of an official team is chronicled in Schooled), but I'm a big proponent of exercise. On my own. Stuff that doesn't require skills of any kind. Being as sick as I've been lately, I took a bit of a hiatus from working out most of last month and have only this week begun to reincorporate it into my life, but not without a sigh of annoyance and a sense of dread. Working out is such a time sucker. Which you really don't think about (or maybe you do) until you stop doing it long enough to have filled that time with something else.

In my case, I've been filling my workout time with writing, and it's been so nice to be able to write on a daily basis. I'm down to my last 10K words for the manuscript I've been working on, but now that I'm healthy enough to exercise, who knows when those 10K words will actually get written. I could always join the throngs of people who simply don't exercise period, and I always seem to get confused comments from people when I work out anyway...comments like, "Why do YOU need to work out?," as if skinny people have nothing to gain from a gym. Not sure why it doesn't occur to these people that working out might by why I'm skinny in the first place, or that there are other motives for staying healthy besides weight (in my case, a family history of heart disease), but the point here is that getting back in the workout saddle is perhaps harder this time than it's ever been before. Because I got awfully attached to my writing time. I'm determined to bring it back. There's got to be something else I can cut out of my life. Cleaning, maybe. Or doing chores. I think I'm onto something.

FEB
22

Plague

b2ap3_thumbnail_SheGotUpOfftheCouch.jpg

I've been out of town for a week, and I really have nothing literary to say other than that I read a book on the plane. 'She Got up off the Couch,' which is the sequel to 'A Girl Named Zippy.' I didn't find this one quite as delightful as Zippy, which oddly enough is one of my favorite memoirs of all time, but Couch certainly kept me entertained, and I was sad when it was over. Three cheers for small town America.

As for the trip itself, it's hard to believe I'm still standing. What started as a few days of a 102+ degree fever before I left (and what I thought would get better quickly) turned into a horrible cold, an unbearably painful sore throat (which I still have, by the way), a few days with no voice (on days when I was supposed to be interviewing potential recruits), and to top it all off, my first ever case of pink eye. It's the most miserable week I can recall, healthwise, in many, many years. And being on the road made it that much worse. I had to resort to a walk-in clinic, for crying out loud. Whatever, we all get sick. This one has just really sucked a lot out of me, and I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in a week and a half. TGIF.

And F to the YI, pink eye is horrific.

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