You may be rightfully thinking, "if she's never going to update it, why bother keeping a blog?"
You'd be right. Except.
I actually have two entries in the back burner. One, interestingly enough, is about boobs. That one will probably see the light of day sometime later in the week. The other one is… oh I forget. Not that it matters, you see, as I don't think you can see my drafts. Okay– you got me: I only have ONE entry in the works. Feh.
But see, I've also been doing some other writing on the side. I hesitate to call it "real" writing, because really, my blog is writing and it's real and I love it very, very much. But this other kind of writing is for the community in which I live and I get to use my real name –a weird first for me.
I guess you could call it "serious" writing. Less snark, more substance, if you will. I hope the gig continues, because I am deeply enjoying the challenge.
In unrelated news, I just got over a nasty case of food poisoning.
I know you're just dying to hear all about me and my retching, but I do have a point (which reminds me– maybe you should stop reading here if you get queasy easily).
The point being this: have you ever noticed that just after a bout of illness, any illness, you have the sudden need to preen and fawn over and take better care of yourself? I am not sure how this translates in masculine terms –and frankly I don't think it matters much as most of my reading and commenting audience (like 97.9%) is female– but if there are any talkative guys out there who want to share in the comments, I'll be giddy knowing that I actually have guys who read this thing.
I spent about 36 hours feeling so sick I didn't even have the energy to feel sorry for myself– just had enough to curl into a ball and sleep or do what nature required of me and enough left over to nurse the baby. So once I could muster enough vim to drag myself to the bathroom and do something about my sorry state, I just could not wait.
And I don't just mean standing under the running shower and hoping that things sort themselves out: oh no. I actually plucked, tweezed, moisturized, firmed, toned and today I remembered to apply blush AND lipgloss at the same time. Let me repeat this: I eagerly WANTED to yank as many hairs off my face once I got better as I was able to find without an indecently-sized magnifying glass. As a matter of fact, I was downright angry that we only had a 10x magnification mirror lying around– the kind that normally make me run and feel disgusted at the size of my pores.
I was thinking about this today and the only answer I could think of why this would happen is simple: it's got to be gratitude.
Being truly thankful that one has made it to the other side and possibly learned lessons along the way (i.e. staying away from unrefrigerated dairy would be the ticket here) is the best side effect to illness that I can think of. And along with that comes something as simple as relishing the body that you have and making it look its best– cherishing it for what it is, instead of wasting idle hours wishing for better or slimmer or taller. Realizing that this body made you able and strong enough to beat whatever bug felled you makes you love yourself.
Sometimes it does take a little bit of the bads to be able to see the really, really good.
And it's really, really good to be healthy– from my own head down to my toes.