FACE FULL OF MUD

I am currently sitting at my desk at work, breathing through my mouth because that is the only way I can get air in and out of my body. The pile of used tissues is continuously growing on the right side of my desk. I stayed home yesterday because my cough sounded like a Tuberculosis cough and I did not want to alarm the people I work with. I don’t feel bad, other than the whole not able to breath through my nose thing and my sinuses feeling like they’re full of wet mud, but I question being at work today because I just sound gross. At least twice a year, my sinus cavity turns into an angry volcano and I am well past the stage of ‘evacuate all natives from the area’. If you were one of those natives who was all “Look, I’m not leaving; you can’t make me.” you are now dead from flowing hot lava.

The pandemic made me really rearrange my priorities around using sick time and my supervisor has made it clear that if you do not feel well, you do not come to work. In fact, today my supervisor said to me “You do not sound like normal Cindy. Maybe you should spend another day on the couch.” This is frustrating to me because I sound sick without really feeling sick. I do not have time for this current road block. Yesterday’s sick day was guilt free. I can easily take one day of rest, but two days of it is ridiculous. I have to be near death and even then I will be saying to myself “Get it together! You are stronger than this volcano!” The pep talks I give myself are dumb. So I had just decided to pack it in and go home, when someone asked for training on a microscope this afternoon. Of course, I agreed. Now that poor student gets to listen to me snort and hack my way through a microscope training.

It’s going to be great.

My biggest concern right now is all the stuff that I am not doing because I can’t breath through my nose. Walks. Any kind of exercise. Taking advantage of the rain free day to clean out the chicken coop. I haven’t touched the coop since monsoon season hit and it is unpleasant. Michael will not be home until late this evening because graduation is tonight. This is the perfect opportunity to clean the house. It might not make sense, but it is easier for me to scrub the kitchen cabinets when Michael is not around. Also, this might be the last chance I get to do a deep clean of the house before all of the travel that is happening in June. I am pretty much not going to be home for a month. Every time I look at the calendar for June, I have to breathe into a paper bag. Michael scheduled both vehicles for an at home oil change service on the second. On that same day, Josephine has to be at the groomers by 8:00 AM and I have an eye appointment that afternoon. I can’t take my car, but I can’t take the dog on the scooter and I can’t take the scooter if it is raining.

We are really good at getting ourselves into that critical thinking question with the fox, the bag of seed, and the goose. Michael keeps telling me that he’s going to get us all across the river.

Going from a year of not doing much of anything to a year where it seems like I’m doing all of the things at once is a jolt to the system. Did I learn nothing from months and months of solitary confinement?!? Look, of course I learned something from all of that. I just learned different lessons than what the self-help/self-care movement expected me to learn. Do as much living as you can while you can. Pandemics and lockdowns are no longer outside the realm of possibility and you never know when another 2020 year will strike. There is a difference between allowing grief and depression to keep you from doing all of the things and being forced into doing none of the things. Being forced into doing none of the things made me appreciate being able to do all of the things.

And right now, all of the things involves tissue.