I feel like crap.

I’ve felt like crap for about a week. Not horrible, not death-bed, and I haven’t been re-writing my will or anything. I’m not even sure you could call this a full-blown cold. But there’s a persistent sore throat and it’s moved into my chest and no matter what, I can’t seem to stop coughing, and also coughing things up. Gross, I’m sorry. But that’s been the past 7 days of my life. In seven days, I haven’t taken a deep breath without triggering a cough. Not good.

One time, Helen Guirley Brown told me she wasn’t sick for 40 years, and she credits EXERCISE. For the past month, I’ve been working out more than I have since I was training for the Seven Mile Bridge Run, and eating well too, so WHAT THE FUCK, LUNGS?

I know what it is. I’m working my ass off – two events this week, one next, and my boss has been out. Every other spare minute has been filled with rugby or rugby fundraising, and yes, on Tuesday night I went to the going-away party of a dear friend, even though I was in no shape to do that, but I really wanted to send her off.

But I am stretched way too thin, and I think my lungs are trying to tell me that something has to give.

I hear you, Lungs. Just give me a couple more days and then we’ll rest, all right? Deal.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 19th, 2006 at 11:14 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.