unmade bed
There's something depressing to me about an unmade bed. I know where it comes from, i'm sure of it, but it still lingers there, depressing me.
I took the day off, fully. Woke around 11:30, called in sick on my fatherly duties, and proceeded to be a layabout the rest of the day. For me anyway. Some people would call it a full day. I watched the last few episodes of season 2 of the Wire, the latest show to catch my fancy (though not really enough). I cleaned myself up, cleaned the house up, did the laundry, sat down with the sunset and a new book (the Sound & the Fury), and re-made the beds. That should solve that.
My ass hurts. Yesterday was a good day. Today is a period of recovery. Yesterday i spent playing hockey and hanging out with my friends and my son. Although i ached at the end, soothing my pains with pills and a large bag of ice, it was a good ache. I tried talking myself out of it a few times, realizing that every single day this week that i didn't have the kids, i had hockey. Three days in one week is too much for me, especially after having not played in three months. The power of three once again. But i pushed myself, knowing it would be good, and came out the other side. Skye had never really seen me play in a real game, in a real rink, and i'm sure that was good for him too.
I may have played better than usual, but i fell a bit more (slippery surface, not like i'm used to), and so my ass hurts. Actually it's a bit to the left, around the side, closer to the hip. But whatever, i hobble. So when i got out of bed this morning, and made my coffee, and slumped down in front of the TV, there was no thought of making the bed. Don't get me wrong, i'm not a neat freak. My bed has gone unmade plenty of days in my life. Not lately though. I'm still trying to sell the house, though there hasn't been much luck yet and that shooting star i wished on hasn't panned out yet, so i cleanup every morning before leaving and make sure it's all presentable. None of that today though, i'm too sore. I noticed the bed while wandering around the room later and slowly realized what it was that depressed me about it.
Years ago i was sick. Very sick. I was seventeen and suddenly stricken by something that no one could understand. The first guesses were meningitis, mono, AIDS, and any other terribly debilitating thing they could think up. Eventually they settled on adult Still's disease, but then jumped to rheumatoid arthritis, and maybe even lupus. They don't know what the fuck they're talking about though, so eventually i quit paying them to guess. Let's just say: it's bad, seems to be brought on by stress, and will probably be back again. It has come calling at least 3 times in the last 13 years, so there's no reason to think it's gone forever. Just away on vacation.
The unmade bed was common back then. Sweaty sheets, aching muscles that could barely get me out (though i wanted nothing more than to get away from it), completely uninviting. It's not that i ever really forget that bed, but i hadn't seen it in awhile. So i stripped it, washed the sheets, folded back the layers, fluffed the pillows, knowing that i'll want it to be inviting later. I love the feel of clean sheets on a clean, nekkid body; the complete opposite of the unmade bed.
,
I took the day off, fully. Woke around 11:30, called in sick on my fatherly duties, and proceeded to be a layabout the rest of the day. For me anyway. Some people would call it a full day. I watched the last few episodes of season 2 of the Wire, the latest show to catch my fancy (though not really enough). I cleaned myself up, cleaned the house up, did the laundry, sat down with the sunset and a new book (the Sound & the Fury), and re-made the beds. That should solve that.
My ass hurts. Yesterday was a good day. Today is a period of recovery. Yesterday i spent playing hockey and hanging out with my friends and my son. Although i ached at the end, soothing my pains with pills and a large bag of ice, it was a good ache. I tried talking myself out of it a few times, realizing that every single day this week that i didn't have the kids, i had hockey. Three days in one week is too much for me, especially after having not played in three months. The power of three once again. But i pushed myself, knowing it would be good, and came out the other side. Skye had never really seen me play in a real game, in a real rink, and i'm sure that was good for him too.
I may have played better than usual, but i fell a bit more (slippery surface, not like i'm used to), and so my ass hurts. Actually it's a bit to the left, around the side, closer to the hip. But whatever, i hobble. So when i got out of bed this morning, and made my coffee, and slumped down in front of the TV, there was no thought of making the bed. Don't get me wrong, i'm not a neat freak. My bed has gone unmade plenty of days in my life. Not lately though. I'm still trying to sell the house, though there hasn't been much luck yet and that shooting star i wished on hasn't panned out yet, so i cleanup every morning before leaving and make sure it's all presentable. None of that today though, i'm too sore. I noticed the bed while wandering around the room later and slowly realized what it was that depressed me about it.
Years ago i was sick. Very sick. I was seventeen and suddenly stricken by something that no one could understand. The first guesses were meningitis, mono, AIDS, and any other terribly debilitating thing they could think up. Eventually they settled on adult Still's disease, but then jumped to rheumatoid arthritis, and maybe even lupus. They don't know what the fuck they're talking about though, so eventually i quit paying them to guess. Let's just say: it's bad, seems to be brought on by stress, and will probably be back again. It has come calling at least 3 times in the last 13 years, so there's no reason to think it's gone forever. Just away on vacation.
The unmade bed was common back then. Sweaty sheets, aching muscles that could barely get me out (though i wanted nothing more than to get away from it), completely uninviting. It's not that i ever really forget that bed, but i hadn't seen it in awhile. So i stripped it, washed the sheets, folded back the layers, fluffed the pillows, knowing that i'll want it to be inviting later. I love the feel of clean sheets on a clean, nekkid body; the complete opposite of the unmade bed.
,
posted by joe @ 10:19 PM
1 comments
I'm planning to give myself one of those days 'off' tomorrow...I can hardly wait. (I'm so behind on everything, including a long overdue email that I've been wanting to write to you.) I think it is so great that you play hockey. I've been thinking lately that that is something that is missing in my life right now (not hockey per se, but some sort of activity that would provide an opportunity for fitness as well as recreation--there's just no fun to be had on a treadmill...argh).
Hmmm, I wonder what really was the cause of your illness back then? (Sounds like a good case for Dr. House :)