Summer is supposed to be a time of carefree fun, sun, and sand.
I for one have been waiting impatiently for summer to arrive this year. While my kids have always had their camp and school friends, my husband and I have not really settled into suburban life as quickly as we were hoping, mainly because of our work schedules. This year, it looked like we would have more of a social life: I had made some really close friends in the neighborhood who also had children, and I felt confident that if I extended a social invitation, they might say yes, and maybe even reciprocate. I was so excited! A social life! Yay!
Not so much. I've been sick since right before school let out in June with one virus or another. Every time I start to feel better, another one knocks me out. I don't feel like swimming in the pool, or even going out into the bright sunshine. The beach? Fuggedaboudit. I just want to stay home and be miserable.
The change in me is astounding. So much so that I am going for a complete check-up next week to ensure that I am not dying of some mystery disease. In the meantime, I stay home and pray to the porcelain goddess, use 1,000 tissues a day, and go to bed at 6:45 pm every night feeling feverish and miserable. Ugh. My poor kids.
Here's hoping I recover quickly so that I can try to enjoy some small part of this summer, before fall shows up and squashes any chance I have of pretending to be a mermaid,jumping over waves, and washing off delicate shells in the saltwater.
Ciao for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment