Sunday Sunday

We just finished watching The Big Chill. All the chores are done. I’ve got the last load of laundry in the wash so two more buckets to fold, not bad for 5 PM on a Sunday. Usually, I leave the laundry until the last possible moment and then it gets folded on Tuesday, maybe Wednesday. My head’s so mixed up these days that everything’s coming out all wrong and the more I keep busy, my fingers working, my shoulders hunched, the less time I can dedicate to wondering why, yet again, the disease is back. Wondering how come I have a huge list of all the things I want in my life and am not brave enough to get them all out in one place, to say them out loud. I know one thing for sure: perhaps I need to stop watching Intervention.

I’m halfway through The Given Day and Once (short stories are very good for the commute). I was reading one on Friday and was so engrossed that I didn’t even notice my boss standing next to me on the subway. Whoops. The days are flying by and this week coming up proves to be just as busy. One freelance assignment, The Jersey Boys with my in-laws, my RRHB has a show on Friday night, and then we’re seeing a hockey game with my dad (the Marlies, not the Leafs; we’re not that connected) on Saturday night. I think I might have to call in sick on Monday because I’ll be so tired.

Disease, what disease? That’s what I’d love to say but I feel rotten this weekend. And that’s hard to admit. Overall, I’ve been feeling so much better — doing the GOOP detox and not eating sugar or dairy during the week, walking, restorative yoga earlier today — but sometimes I just want to kick and scream and shout, “why f**&ing me.” And enough is enough already. But it all just doesn’t work out that way, does it? What I need is a top 10 list for dealing with super fancy diseases. Anyone got one of those?