I found this little gem at shoeboxblog.com [and it made me laugh]:
Top Five Reasons Why February Doesn’t Suck:
1. The weather. No, that’s wrong.
2. Summer vacation is just around…no it’s not.
3. You can start wearing…wait. No you can’t.
4. Valentine’s Day was happy. If you were already happy.
5. It’s two days shorter than the other months. But not this year.
This flu thing is really wearing me down, thus to illustrate my state of mind, I begin with a very cynical, yet clever top-5 list. I am feeling somewhat that way myself as of late. We are now into day 7, yes, SEVEN! of this delightful influenza journey and I've exhausted all patience with my body's lack of wellness and the inabilities I am face as I try to get back into the swing of work and school. I basically feel like the wee little scrawny kid who gets beaten-up every day for his lunch money. I'm just waiting for the parent-teacher conference that quells the daily ritual.
Tuesday I attempted two classes. Sitting effortlessly and immobile, what could be so hard? By the end of the second, I was practically asleep on the desk as all of my insides pleaded to go back to bed. I went home to nap for four hours and called it a night shortly thereafter. Wednesday I was shocked to awaken to an unfamiliar "whole human" feeling that had seemingly replaced that of the "walking dead." I demanded that Work let me come in for a half day, which entailed sitting in a chair recording inventory...yet again, my body failed me. I was asked to leave after four hours.
I'M READY TO BE WELL DAMMIT!
So here I am, still trying to ease into the routine I hated last week and that I now fantasize about today...oh, to be able to stand for an entire 8-hour shift of work, or to sit without struggle through my long academic Tuesday's.
It truly takes so little to rearrange a person's perspective. It seems that I am continually shown that lesson both with the trial of the army and those [evil] forces of nature and Her "Flu Season."
One of my biggest motivators for feeling well, or at least looking as though I feel well is tomorrow's flight. I'll be leaving [...on a jet plane] late Friday afternoon for a weekend retreat with The Staff Sergeant. I'll be honest, four weeks has seemed very long, not necessarily with grueling connotations, rather with dissipating ones. It hasn't been much of a battle, yet it's heartbreaking to realize how much of Us seems to have transitioned into a vaporous and intangible form, save that daily phone call. I've talked with my girlfriends who are in the midst of The Great Divide and have watched as they anticipate brief homecomings. I don't know how they do it and ever let him leave again. I'm uncertain what kind of person that makes me, but even now with two days to take him in, I can't help being worried that my return will be harder than even his initial departure. There is something to be said for the milestone marker of X weeks down and X to go, but the ones lying between now and then still lie between now and then. Seeing his face again will surely melt away any apprehensions in my heart, it's just...time will pass all too quickly, being in his presence will feel like a tease.
And so, tempted as I am to curse the stars, life happens for reasons beyond me. Even when it seems that nothing good can possibly be the result of sickness, distance or even February, there are always little glimmers of silver linings to either be found or forged.
I'll work on being mindful of that notion.