Here I sit broken hearted, tried to… Now you should know by now, that’s not how I (usually) roll.
I’m staring outside, the sun is shining, the temp is a perfect 71 with not even a hint of breeze or a cloud in the sky. Alas, the Tigers game is on and I am not blistering down the road on my trusty Trek 5200 with the advanced club guys… And I miss it.
I am sick. Not a little bit sick, I’m sick. My hair hurts – even the one’s I shaved this morning. I’m so stinkin’ sick my 5 o’clock shadow hurts. It hurts to breathe, to move, to sit still. I have a sore throat and another one at the top of my lungs from coughing so hard.
Still, I got 3/4’s of a very productive day in at the office. Working alone has its benefits when you’re ill – nobody to infect.
I am sitting here because I am part cocky and part stupid. Everyone knows you don’t kiss your spouse on the lips when she’s sick (with, you guessed it, a hacking, wheezing sore throat). I’m Bgddy though. I’m fit as an ox – heck my immune system does push-ups while it’s waiting for the next bug to eviscerate. My once fried liver does downward dogs. My pancreas? Planks. My heart? It’s so strong and sure, I can feel my pulse in my pinkie toe – without even touching it! I don’t get sick. I’m a cyclist. When I have dreams, I wake up with my legs pumping. I am HEALTHY.
Remember, cocky and a little bit stupid.
I had a most delectable Sloppy Joe (or two) for dinner this evening. It tasted like the organic Mac and Cheese, which humorously enough tasted like the four potato chips I ate – and the Gatorade I drank.
Sweet, now my big toe is cramping up.
Well, I suppose I needed a few days off anyway.