I spent the entire weekend in bed.
You'd think that lying in bed all weekend would be a luxury but nooooo, I'm a Type A personality. Which means that I'm happiest when I'm up and about doing stuff.
It really doesn't matter what kind of stuff I'm doing, just as long as I'm doing stuff, like walking around in a mall, grocery shopping (I quite enjoy grocery shopping and shopping for all the healthy and some unhealthy foods I'm going to be consuming for the week), cooking and preparing my lunches for the week, working out, sewing (which by the way, I've yet to alter the skirts I was supposed to make smaller - thus helping me save some money), picking up the house (I don't like cleaning but I don't mind picking up, but mind you, I'm of course cussing my husband under my breath as I pick up his socks and shoes for the upteenth time in our marriage - but of course, I need to pick up because if I don't, our cleaners can't really do their job and they don't know where stuff's supposed to go anyway).
I didn't get to do any of that this weekend... okay, I kinda did... that is before I had to go lie down.
I was already feeling crappy when I woke up Saturday morning. We had been out with our friends (Karen, Shaun and their daughter Eliscia - our daughters go to school together) on Friday night and right after dinner, I started feeling sick. You know the kind... chills, achy bones, raging fever. It definitely felt like Influenza but I had my Flu Shot in the Fall so there's no way that I was going to be coming down with the Flu.
We got home slightly after 8pm, I popped a couple of Tylenols and drank a cup of steaming Neocitrin and went straight to bed, secreting hoping that my husband would help pick up the house since the cleaners were coming the next day.
Of course, when I got up the next morning, the house hadn't been picked up. It was 8 am and the cleaners were going to be arriving at 9 am. No doubt that my husband was scheduled to drop our daughter off at her Swim Lessons at 8:55 am, the least he could do was to help me pick up.
But Noooooooo, he proceeded to make her breakfast, leaving the mess for me to clean up.
Now I should mention that this is not uncommon for my husband. My husband is in essence THE Tasmanian Devil (like in the Bugs Bunny Cartoons) in the kitchen. He leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. It takes longer for me the clean the kitchen than it does for him to make dinner. Needless to say, he doesn't make dinner too often. It's not uncommon to see spaghetti sauce splattered in areas that's never ever seen the light of day. I am convinced that he must load spaghetti sauce on the whisk and plays combat in the kitchen. Maybe he thinks the Whisk is a weapon of sorts and it explodes. It's really quite incredible. But I digress.
Anyway, after leaving the toaster oven, cutting board, knife (the largest one in our knife drawer by the way, - it's specific purpose is Carving a Roast), the butter out plus leaving crumbs all over the island, I lost it. So, I laid it into him. Of course his response was, "... but the cleaners will be here soon and they can do it." URGH! Yes, Honey, I know that the cleaners will be here soon BUT their purpose is to clean, ie. Vacuum, Mop, Scrub, Dust, etc. NOT PICK UP AFTER YOU MY DARLING!!!! ARGH!
Anyway, by the time he returned from swimming, things were all better. My drugs had kicked in and things I was somewhat more sane.
Nevertheless, I still had a crappy weekend. I didn't get to do much except lie in bed and watch TV. I guess it could have been worse. For instance, I could have been sick and have to be at work, .... hey, kinda like today.