sickoriffic

It's different when you're sick as an adult and no one wants to bother taking care of you the way that your mom did when you were a kid. It just isn't cute anymore, since I imagine the sight of my kleenex dried skin, dark circled eyes, and mangled bout of bed head aren't as charming to Ian as I had hoped they would be. It's the throbbing head that makes a person wish they could take off their face to possibly relieve the sinus pressure type of feeling. Blowing my nose leads to dry air coming from both nostrils and the corners of my eyes, leading me next to inspect the space around myself for a possible ear that may have popped off in the process. It's humor, and so unbecoming.


In my two day old outfit of bed land couture, I slink downstairs into the world of the living to somehow stand dizzily in the kitchen to make a warm cup of tea. In my mind, as I stare off in a comatose state induced by approx. 21 hours of sporadic, open mouth, sleep, I remember the days when being sick was much more glamorous. Fuzzy jammies, on the couch, 7up -to sip- with a bendy straw, chicken noodle soup avec ice cube served on a Smurfs lap table, while watching Bed knobs and Broomsticks in between snoozes. *Thanks mom.


Luckily I found a new sort of luxury to help me feel pampered and pretty in between feeling like a heavy, bedridden sac of potatoes. By total coincidence I recently ordered some more soaps and salts from Rocky Mountain Soap Company, including salt for Cold&Flu. I was so happy to test it out, and I can't say I can complain since it made me feel soft and relaxed once I nestled back into my body groove for another 21 hours of sleep.

I'm the best smelling zombie there is, and I am definitely on the mend.