Thursday, December 4, 2008

Sometimes its Hard to Live Inside my Head

My dog just dug another hole. Fantastic.
Here's what I've been thinking about for the last few days: When I was working, and decided to play hookie and call in sick (not often, but it happened) I had no qualms about it, and would call in, not even make the sick voice, and just do it. I would go to the mall, see a movie, or just stay home and hang out. When I was actually sick, however, I agonized over the decision to call in sick. At 6 a.m. you don't really know how you feel, or if you'll feel okay with just a few more hours of sleep, and unless I had a fever or was barfing, I would hem and haw before I decided to take a sick day. Now, I was thinking that when I played hookie, I would pick a day where I knew I had nothing important on the schedule; I wasn't missing any meetings and no one would miss me. And, honestly, I was an HR director for a second rate video game company, it wasn't like we were curing cancer or teaching inner city kids to read, so nothing I did there was all that important anyway.
So, here I am now, three, almost four years in to stay-at-home mom-dome, and I am experiencing the same thing. I talk a lot about how I sit on the sofa and watch Oprah, and read magazines and take naps, and don't even get me started on the solitaire game that runs my new ipod's batteries out every day. When I decide that this is how I'm going to spend an hour (or, say, a day) I am unapologetic about it. I feel like I deserve to put my feet up for a while, even if the bathroom isn't clean and we have frozen food again for dinner, and once I've made up my mind to sit on my ass, I feel mostly great about it, and only a little bit loserish.
But when I'm actually sick, or, like now, when my foot hurts and I need to put it up for a while, I feel like a total loser. I second guess myself about whether I'm really sick enough to justify taking a nap or watching TV, and I wonder if I'm faking it. So I get up and walk around, and, sure enough, my foot hurts, so I believe myself and sit back down.
And am I the only one who gets a little annoyed at how helpful my husband is being? My friend says that maybe I feel like I don't deserve the help, and I think she's right, since I'd have to be crazy to be annoyed at a man who does dishes, makes dinner and helps his daughter floss. Why is it that, when I'm feeling fine, I don't have any trouble channel surfing between Zs, but when I'm not feeling fine, its so hard for me to relax and accept the help that is offered?
One thing I always wanted to do while I was working, but never did, was say I had some meeting at a location outside the office, and go to a movie by myself. I totally should have done that, but I'm such a goodie-goodie. No one would have asked any questions, especially when you consider how much golf went on during office hours at that place. I could have seen a movie once a week and no one would have noticed. They might have wondered why I had popcorn breath and pieces of redvines stuck in my teeth all the time, but I doubt they would have made a connection. If only...

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