Recovering

I started work on Christmas presents the other day. I'm enjoying the chance to create something again, something that has meaning and purpose. It's better than just lying on the couch all day, moaning. Now I can lie on the couch, moan, and accomplish something all at the same time! lol

I did, however, overdo it a bit... again. Going to church yesterday morning was hard on my body, and I had to leave just as the sermon was starting because I was feeling very ill. A quick stop at the library to pick up some more movies for my sick seclusion confirmed that I was, indeed, pushing beyond the bounds of my endurance and I high-tailed it home.

I felt ok the rest of the day, so long as I was resting, but I got that "itch" towards evening and started crafting... which, of course, meant that I had to unpack and organize my still-in-transition craft room. I guess I got carried away, because although I could feel my body yelling at me that I was, again, beyond the bounds of my endurance, I kept going. I guess I was hoping that it was a false alarm. I mean, you can only get so sick before you kinda start doubting your body's warnings that it's going to get sicker. It's like an internal eye roll, like, "Really? Are you just pulling my leg?" I get very tired of pulling up short in life to keep myself from getting sick, and sometimes I wonder if it's all in my head and if I'd be able to just "get over it" if I powered through and kept going.

Well, this proved to me that I had better listen to my body, or ELSE. I had finished one project and was working on Mom's present when C got home, so I wrapped it up to spend a little time with him. I felt hungry for the first time all evening, so I chopped up a peach and munched on that. Big mistake. I spent the next hour and a half throwing up pretty much everything in my stomach. I don't even know if my evening meds got absorbed or not. In any event, I was utterly miserable. I finally went to bed after I was able to keep water down for a while, and half a mug of Sleepytime tea.

So today, I still feel completely nauseous, queasy, and kinda whole-body-bruised. I didn't sleep well, and I woke up tired and aching from the inside out. It feels like the flu, truly. A bad flu. And all this because I wanted to get my craft room into shape. Really? That's whack, man. I shouldn't be punished for trying to lead a productive life, but there you have it. At least I'm keeping some toast and applesauce down this morning. (Barely.)

Anyway, this was a good lesson. I suppose I'll be more likely to actually listen to my body and pull up short when I'm approaching my limits from now on... at least, as long as the memory of feeling awful is still vibrant in my mind.