Here I am, lying in bed under a weighty pile of quilts and blankets, waiting for the flu to decide that it has had enough fun at my expense. My muscles ache, my sinuses feel as if they are about to explode from the confines of my face and, thanks to those wonderful commercials, I can just see those mucus bullies who have set up housekeeping in my chest. Other than drinking plenty of water and taking pain relievers to lessen the misery, there isn’t much to be done. It is strictly a waiting game and, quite frankly, I’m tired of waiting. I’ve been very patient (at least by my standards) and I think it is time for Mr. Flu Bug to move on.
This is just the icing on the cake for me. I mean, has this or has this not been the longest winter ever? Will it never end? I have always loved this time of year and often reminisce about those wonderful snowfalls of my youth. My friends and I would sled and build igloos and snowmen to our hearts’ content, oblivious of below zero wind chill factors. As a child who longed for more snow days and school cancellations, winters never seemed to last long enough. I still say I’d much rather be bundled up against the cold than unable to escape the heat, but let’s be realistic. I’m no longer a school girl who yearns to ensconce herself in multiple layers of mismatched clothing and make snow angels for hours on end. I give up already. UNCLE!
Even my kids have had enough. Their school year has been extended to the max and the desire to get ‘er done is outweighing the desire to sleep in. They want bicycles taken out of storage and sleds stowed away until further notice. They want to play outside after school without having to wear a parka and mittens. I feel their pain. I want to open windows, hang sheets on the line to dry and (dare I say it?) mow the grass. Of course, you are welcome to remind me of that last one in July, when the temps are in the 90s and humidity reigns supreme.
I’m so anxious for winter to be over and done that I even got an early start on my spring cleaning. I’ve been purging closets of unnecessary clutter, washing and ironing curtains, cleaning windows and wiping down the woodwork. That is, until Mr. Flu Bug decided to pay a visit. I was a rude host in the beginning, telling him I had neither the time nor the desire to deal with him, and attempting to go on about my business. I soon discovered that was not the way to handle the situation. It certainly didn’t send him packing. If anything he was even more persistent and finally got my full attention by bringing on a bout of aches, pains and chills that forced me to bed. So here I am; aching, chilling, wallowing in self-pity, infecting every blanket in the house and creating even more laundry to be done once I’m back on my feet. Ain’t winter great?
I guess for now I’ll simply dream of those better days that I know are coming. The flu will be long gone (good riddance!); the sun will be shining on my freshly mowed lawn (can’t you smell that wonderful aroma?); crisp, clean sheets will be billowing in a gentle breeze (is there a better feeling than curling up between line-dried sheets?); and I’ll be relaxing on the front porch swing with my hubby, watching the kids ride their bicycles (if the tires haven’t dry rotted after spending so much time stored away). Closing my eyes, I can see it all so clearly. I can even feel the warmth of that gentle spring breeze.
No, wait… my mistake. That’s just the heat pump kicking on. Again.