Five Duh Moments

I only get sick once a year. Maybe twice. I think I missed class for sickness in college only a handful of times. I did develop (discover?) allergies, but a good Claritin-D or Zyrtec kept me going. I just had too much going on to be sick. Even that awful freshman year spring Tuesday schedule! In the four years at my job, I’ve never called in sick. I think we have sick time… I’ve never asked. Sick days aren’t really an option in the life I’ve had, and my body has been pretty agreeable with that plan this far.

But it’s upon us. It’s just a cold, I’m sure, that my husband harbored for three days and then passed to me, but when you get sick so rarely, you forget what it’s like. Suddenly you have the worst headache ever in history, the worst congestion ever felt by man or beast, and your throat is one hacking cough away from entirely disentegrating off your body.

Oklahoma is still in full winter (mud, cold, wind, clouds) so I’m less jealous today of the feed crew. I might be able to thank my stars today that they can handle things without me, and I’ll catch up on dishes and laundry. As I’m working, mulling over life and responding to podcasters in my head, some things occur to me. These aren’t earth-shattering revelations by any means. I can’t take credit for radical thought with this deathly cough. Ahem.


Five Duh Moments
1. Take the trash out before it’s full.
The kitchen trash (an itty bitty can in the cabinet under the sink) is a major point of contention, for some reason. If you head off the problem, it’s not a problem.

2. Similarly, wash the half load.
When it’s really cold out, the washing machine has issues draining. If it can’t drain, it overflows and needs every remaining junk towel in the house (Please tell me I’m not the only woman with old, threadbare, or ridiculous towels in the mudroom.) and a couple of t-shirts from the rag bag. I hate running the washing machine (when it’ll drain, of course) half full but I hate piles of sopping wet cotton and stray dog hair worse. So I did it. It made me happy.

3. Take the extra blankets off the bed.
I was being cute last time I changed the sheets, and just topped the bed with a waffle knit throw. I froze that night. I layered an extra blanket on my side. Two days later, I realized my husband was cold too, so I threw the duvet on top. I melted under three blankets. For a week! No one has been comfortable in any phase of this setup. Why didn’t I just accept after the first night that my cute plan didn’t work, and replace it with just the duvet to begin with?

4. Accept that the floors will be muddy for three weeks…. or eight…. let’s call it June.
Perfect isn’t really a thing we’re going to hit. Perfection is subjective. Perfection is fleeting. Perfection actually isn’t sustainable within a happy life. You can find beauty in flaws, for sure, and even prefer them to perfection – once you accept that mud is going to keep happening, and it’s not efficient for muddy feet to keep out of a spotless kitchen, so stressing over keeping a kitchen spotless in these conditions just isn’t worth it. It will quit raining one day, this too shall pass, and then we can talk about scrubbing the floors.

5. You’re never going to feel like working out.
You going to have to make yourself do it anyway. Once you can breathe, I mean. You can’t wait until you “feel like” being an adult. We’re stuck here. So go balance your checkbook and pay the bills and send the birthday cards, and keep smiling.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re safe and dry and healthy. And appreciating the small things.

So the dishes are done. Laundry is done. Sheets are changed. I’m almost caught up on my reading in Matthew. Mail has been sorted. And they fed cows in the ick. Everything has a season.