Sickish
The best thing I can think of to say about coming down with a nasty cold is how great it is not to have to get up and go teach classes when I'm sick. Really, everybody was so overloaded at school that it was a hardship to sub for somebody, and students never seem to learn anything from a sub anyhow. So I'd drag myself in and carry on like a good soldier.
I am a wuss when sick. I just want to be left alone except for somebody bringing me things, like my favorite ice cream. Grumpy is about over his cold, and he's being so nice.
I really shouldn't call him "Grumpy," but I don't really like the word "husband." It speaks to me of taking care of cattle ("animal husbandry"). He's not really that grumpy, though he often uses a harsher voice than most people would, and it bothers the dog. (I finally figured out that it is a reflection of self-esteem issues, and so it doesn't bother me now.) I use my happy voice with the dog, which sets off his playful response, and I no longer let myself get outraged when he does something wrong. The strong emotion makes the dog anxious and less receptive to learning. I use a stern but quiet voice when I'm serious. I've been gently trying to modify Grumpy's behavior with diggedy-dog, and he seems to be taking it in. I'm so pleased that he's listening. He gets a little hurt when the dog prefers to walk next to me.
I miss the long walks with Grumpy and diggedy-dog. I've missed two nights now, just when we were so proud of ourselves for sticking to our regimen almost every night. A session with street map and ruler revealed that what I've been calling 4+ miles is really 5+. That sounds much better to me, irrationally so.
Today's sickbed reading was an Elizabeth George murder mystery, In the Presence of the Enemy. I like every one of her books that I have read (maybe three or four so far), but this one actually made me cry at the end. There was a little boy whose father wanted to send him off to boarding school at the age of eight to make a "man" of him, out of a fear of artistic sensitivities and delicacy in his son. He was really screwing up the kid. It touched me, and the ending redeemed everybody with the boy showing surprising guts & heroism and daddy coming to his senses. I get so absorbed in stories! I take a good story very personally.
I am a wuss when sick. I just want to be left alone except for somebody bringing me things, like my favorite ice cream. Grumpy is about over his cold, and he's being so nice.
I really shouldn't call him "Grumpy," but I don't really like the word "husband." It speaks to me of taking care of cattle ("animal husbandry"). He's not really that grumpy, though he often uses a harsher voice than most people would, and it bothers the dog. (I finally figured out that it is a reflection of self-esteem issues, and so it doesn't bother me now.) I use my happy voice with the dog, which sets off his playful response, and I no longer let myself get outraged when he does something wrong. The strong emotion makes the dog anxious and less receptive to learning. I use a stern but quiet voice when I'm serious. I've been gently trying to modify Grumpy's behavior with diggedy-dog, and he seems to be taking it in. I'm so pleased that he's listening. He gets a little hurt when the dog prefers to walk next to me.
I miss the long walks with Grumpy and diggedy-dog. I've missed two nights now, just when we were so proud of ourselves for sticking to our regimen almost every night. A session with street map and ruler revealed that what I've been calling 4+ miles is really 5+. That sounds much better to me, irrationally so.
Today's sickbed reading was an Elizabeth George murder mystery, In the Presence of the Enemy. I like every one of her books that I have read (maybe three or four so far), but this one actually made me cry at the end. There was a little boy whose father wanted to send him off to boarding school at the age of eight to make a "man" of him, out of a fear of artistic sensitivities and delicacy in his son. He was really screwing up the kid. It touched me, and the ending redeemed everybody with the boy showing surprising guts & heroism and daddy coming to his senses. I get so absorbed in stories! I take a good story very personally.
posted by Cranky Ol' Lady at 12:19 AM
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