Saturday, October 14, 2006
Sick and single is fine by me
Sorry I've been out of the loop, but for the last week and a half I've been sick. (Two words: Stomach ailment. Trust me, that's all you want to know.)
And when I start paying attention to relationship goings-on again, what do I find? That goofy Runaway Bride in Georgia has sued her ex-fiance (I think she's just bitter because he dumped her crazy butt); Vince and Jen broke up (she was rebounding from Brad Pitt and Vince is probably better off without her); Madonna is in the process of adopting an African baby (????); and here in Charlotte we have a burgeoning swingers community (don't know what I'm talking about? You need to read Alisha's last post!)
Wow.
Meanwhile, here at the McGruder homestead, I've spent most of my recent days in bed, curled in the fetal position. Which means I've had plenty of time to think -- and you know what kept popping into my mind?
Man, am I glad I live alone.
You'd think in a time of illness I'd want someone to take care of me, right? But it's been just the opposite. I'm glad I don't have a man here who has to handle my sour moods, my repeated doctor's visits, the general gnarliness of a stomach ailment. While I know that in marriage we vow to love each other "in sickness and in health," I'm glad I don't have a husband dealing with my fevered tossing and turning in bed, the crumpled and unglamorous "sick" pajamas, the unending bed head, the bland soup-and-saltines diet.
And ultimately, the aloneness has allowed me to concentrate on getting better, because I don't have to worry about anyone else. When I was at my worst, a close friend dropped off medicine and groceries, and when I got lonely, friends and family were only a phone call away. Also, my cat, Jezebel, has proven to be quite the sickbed companion. It's amazing how our pets pick up on when we need extra love; Jez has been by my side nonstop -- warm, purring and snuggled as close as she can get.
So now I'm on the road to recovery ... thanks to some concentrated "me" time.
And when I start paying attention to relationship goings-on again, what do I find? That goofy Runaway Bride in Georgia has sued her ex-fiance (I think she's just bitter because he dumped her crazy butt); Vince and Jen broke up (she was rebounding from Brad Pitt and Vince is probably better off without her); Madonna is in the process of adopting an African baby (????); and here in Charlotte we have a burgeoning swingers community (don't know what I'm talking about? You need to read Alisha's last post!)
Wow.
Meanwhile, here at the McGruder homestead, I've spent most of my recent days in bed, curled in the fetal position. Which means I've had plenty of time to think -- and you know what kept popping into my mind?
Man, am I glad I live alone.
You'd think in a time of illness I'd want someone to take care of me, right? But it's been just the opposite. I'm glad I don't have a man here who has to handle my sour moods, my repeated doctor's visits, the general gnarliness of a stomach ailment. While I know that in marriage we vow to love each other "in sickness and in health," I'm glad I don't have a husband dealing with my fevered tossing and turning in bed, the crumpled and unglamorous "sick" pajamas, the unending bed head, the bland soup-and-saltines diet.
And ultimately, the aloneness has allowed me to concentrate on getting better, because I don't have to worry about anyone else. When I was at my worst, a close friend dropped off medicine and groceries, and when I got lonely, friends and family were only a phone call away. Also, my cat, Jezebel, has proven to be quite the sickbed companion. It's amazing how our pets pick up on when we need extra love; Jez has been by my side nonstop -- warm, purring and snuggled as close as she can get.
So now I'm on the road to recovery ... thanks to some concentrated "me" time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I'm glad you're feeling better, and I can totally relate to how you felt when you were sick. I can appreciate singleness better when I'm in a bad mood or don't feel well, because I don't have to talk to anyone when I'm home alone, or have a man see me at my absolute worst. It's true, marriage is "in sickness and in health," but if I spent so much time trying to look good when I was dating a guy, do I really want him to see me looking like total crap later on? It's inevitable, but I still say illness is best handled alone.
Post a Comment