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I have a confession. Sometimes, when I read a friend’s sick status on Facebook (“On the couch feeling sick, having a Netflix marathon, and eating the chicken noodle soup my mom brought over”), I get sick envy.
Wouldn’t it be nice, I muse, to get sick enough that I could just lay on the couch all day reading books, watching TV, and having my family wait on me hand and foot?
I feel pretty stupid for admitting this. Especially since, now that I am sick, I remember that it totally sucks. I can’t focus on my book because I am focusing on not throwing up. I try to watch shows, but I forget to pay attention. I’m too busy repeating, in the whiniest voice possible, “I don’t feeeeeeeel good,” and squirming around trying to get comfortable.
As for the waiting on me hand and foot–my kids are ALMOST old enough to not jump on my stomach while I lay in bed snuggling the barf bowl. But at least I know I am loved. After all, my son DID bring me the biggest bowl in the house. Just in case. And that, people, is true love.
But it still sucks being sick. I’ll try to remember that the next time I envy your sick-day Doctor Who marathon. Now, who is going to make me some soup?
