The one where the blogger opines about being home sick for a week

Yeah, so the cold I felt coming on Monday afternoon – sore, scratchy throat, febrile-iousness, etc. – turned into a lovely case of pneumonia by Wednesday morning.  Doctors orders had me home in bed for the rest of the week. Who am I to argue with a medical professional, after all? So off to bed I went, with a Z-pack, inhaler, course of steroids, box of kleenex, plenty of fluids and a bottle of cough syrup at hand. While not exactly consumptive (or missing teeth, hair, dignity or clutching an Oscar), I may or may not have hummed a few bars of “I Dreamed a Dream” under my breath, just to milk things a bit.  At any rate, here’s a few thoughts that floated briefly through my mind during my time at home:

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…There’s a lot of crap on daytime TV.  A lot of crap.  I chose mostly to switch on IFC or the Sundance Channel and watch whatever movies wandered by.  Of note: “Monsoon Wedding”, “The Descendants” and “The Station Agent” are wonderful when stuck at home with limited mental capacity (fever and codeine cough syrup, ahem!).  Interesting stories, beautifully shot and well-acted. “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas” is not quite the light, sick-at-home viewing that one might want.  Incidentally, Peter Dinklage was quite hot in The Station Agent – way more than you might think watching him in Game of Thrones.

cats
…Cats take advantage of people sick in bed.  I couldn’t shake the Burmese no matter what I did, although she would leap over to the edge of the bed and look at me with disgust if I had a coughing fit.  She hates having her beauty sleep interrupted, apparently. Quite often, I’d have both felines on the bed, albeit with a DMZ pillow or ridge of blanket between the two. This is mostly for the brown cat’s peace of mind; the orange cat couldn’t give a shit.
…By about the third day, a certain degree of lassitude creeps into your general psyche.  I stopped checking email quite so often – even work email – and didn’t feel a need to respond to much.  I had brief bursts of energy and focus, especially in the hour or so after taking the prednisone, where I could get a few emails answered or, on one afternoon, a short presentation written but for the most part, languor was the order of the day.
…Starve a cold, feed a fever, stuff pneumonia with carbs.  Just sayin’

Truth be told, this past week was one of the nicer breaks I’ve ever had.  The last few months have been a complete crazy-making rush of too much work with too few hands, leading to 65+ hour weeks.  At one point, my boss said I was averaging 13.5 hours a day.  This on top of the usual level of family activities and needs.  All of this leaving me feeling So. Much. Stress. and guilt for not doing enough with my family – kids, house, husband – that have definitely left me in a less-than-hardy place.  In other words, I think I wore myself out.  Having this past week where I really had no choice but to stay in bed and read or watch movies, all while being kept company with a kitty or two, was – sorry – just what the doctor ordered for me.  I feel rested.  And that’s saying a lot.  It’s going to take a while to get my energy back – I have no doubt that Monday is going to kick my ass – but I believe that having this week to just turn my head and body off for a time was needed and will help me get back at it with a renewed spirit.  Or at least a slightly less exhausted one.

Tom Hanks begins to type

Oh boy! Back to work I go!

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I confess – I just didn’t love Les Mis

My kids saw it over the Christmas break. (not together, of course. She’s 16, he’s 14 and they wouldn’t be caught dead!)  Many of my friends have seen it.  Co-workers saw it and rhapsodized. Anne Hathaway adds to her award collection daily because of it.  But I still hadn’t seen it.  It being Les Miserables – the long-awaited cinematic extravaganza everyone’s been talking, writing and dreaming about.  So last night, Mike and i set out to the local theatre to finally check it out.

This movie had it all.  Huge, sweeping vistas – check.  Oppresser and oppressed – check. Grime-covered stars, star-crossed love, singing urchins – check, check and check. Frankly, there wasn’t a thing in this movie that wasn’t dead on.  The music was gorgeous and, after all the years the musical has been around, familiar.  The performances were wonderful – everything they needed to be and more.  The story is eternal.  Altogether, it culminates in what those fancy critics refer to a theatrical extravaganza, the likes of which we haven’t seen in a generation…or something like that.  But not for me.  There wasn’t anything wrong with it – I really wanted to love it.  I was waiting to be transported, to be swept away by song and story.  Nope.

Maybe it was the length; nearly 3 hours is a long time for fidgety me to sit still.  (Although I happily swooned through all 8 epic-length Harry Potters)  Maybe it was the surroundings – it’s flu season after all and based on the honking coming from the seats around me, I was seated in the tubercular section.  For what ever reason, I couldn’t get lost in this one.  I dunno, maybe it was trying too hard?

What about you?  Did you see it? Did you love it?

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