Motherhood is often overwhelming enough without going and adding minor illness to the workday. I have a mild fever and cold symptoms, but my mood indicates something more along the lines of pancreatic cancer.
When the snot fills my head, it is as if I have regressed thirty or more years and I find myself moping and whining around the house wishing everyone would just leave me alone to lay on the couch. (They don't.) Responsibilities for young people and their meals and upbringing seems a burden too heavy to bear without downing ten to twelve handfuls of Peanut M&Ms in the afternoon.
I know there are mothers out there FAR more mature and well-adjusted than I - and I would like them to comment on this post with just a snippet of that well-adjustedness to share with me.
I feel sorry for myself. How can I be expected to feed and educate four children while simultaneously blowing my nose? It's too much!
Somehow, after a record three days of this (I am rarely sick at all - and never for more than a day!) I think I might pull through. The NyQuil that I know sits on my bathroom counter is waiting for me tonight. Beckoning like a lover with clear sinuses.
I'm forty, people. Will someone please tell me when maturity will kick in and I will be able to handle a mere head cold without all the melodrama and end-of-the-world feelings? I'll be waiting for your answer, but I will probably be snoring... and passed-out drunk on the NyQuil enjoying a few hours of respite before tomorrow comes. Good night.