I have never been hurt by anything I didn't say.
-- Calvin Coolidge
.
2/13/01- Bed-ridden.

(At least that's how it think you spell it.)

Monica is once again confined to laying on the couch or bed... pretty much immobile. Guh! I let myself get suckered into the feeling that things weren't getting worse.

The Symptoms:

  • Lower backache.
  • Shooting pains down one leg.
  • Headache
  • Irritability
  • Dry, hacking cough.
  • Irritability
The Treatment:
  • Bed rest.
  • Fistfuls of pain pills.
  • Sleep.
  • Pain pills.
Dammit! It's always something! If you have the cure, I'd like to hear it.
I'm sure it has something about me being a man... and standing up to her. I am surely part of the problem here. How am I ever supposed to figure out when she is really sick, sorta sick, and perfectly fine. I'll feel like crap if she is actually "hurt" this time. I feel guilty about not getting more housework done last night, I was up 'til 1 AM... got up at 5 am - and I feel guilty. I just got off the phone with Monica, she wants to know if I can leave work early today, so that I can get the kids' dinner made a little earlier. I feel guilty?!?
Yup, It must be me.

Or, maybe I need to be a man, and suck-it-up, deal with it, one way or another... but stop whining about. After all, who likes a whiner? I've gotten the advice that "...bitching about it makes you dwell on it, which makes things worse. Write about happy things." 
Hmmm, makes sense to me.

Actually, right now work makes me happy. 
We are accomplishing tons of great work. It feels nice to be on the "front-side of the 8-ball". I had been feeling bad about work lately and worked my way out of it... literally.

I'm gonna tage a deep breath, count to 10, decrompress and be as happy as I can.

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"Pardon me while my head explodes."
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