Overachiever, Act One

Being sick screws up my system. My system being this- I do not clean house during the week. I mean, I really don't. At. All. The bed doesn't get made, the floors aren't vacuumed, in fact, I find myself unconcerned with whether or not the laundry makes it into the basket. Cleaning my classroom every day is enough work, I say. Then, on the weekend, I find it unbearable to spend extended amounts of time amidst the mess. So Saturday mornings, er, afternoons, are spent doing the laundry, sorting it into baskets (I'm too afraid to venture into my closet these days), changing the sheets (the one time each week the bed will be made), organizing the clutter, scrubbing the toilet, you get the picture.

The system works. Unless I get sick. Today, I am congested and achy and whiny and all around feeling blah. I know I should be resting and drinking ridiculous amounts of water and soaking in the tub and then resting some more. However, The Mess is screwing with my mind. I cannot stop thinking about The Mess. So, I confess, I am close to giving up the getting-better-stuff for the don't-let-the-dirty-laundry-institutionalize-you-stuff. The part of me that knows I need an effing break is trying to reach a compromise with the part of me whose brain will explode if I don't throw away the pile of snotty tissues.

I'm trying. Put in a load of laundry, veg in front of the TV with orange juice. Organize the clutter, lay in bed surfing my favorite blogs. Oh, crap. Today is the day I have to make the Amish bread. That means a trip to the grocery store. Oh, and I need detergent. And shampoo and soap and tampons and a new toothbrush. Hey, I think I have a coupon for crescent rolls. Those would be good with that new chicken dish I've been wanting to try. Hmm, maybe I'll make dinner for me and the roommate.

I really suck at being sick.