Day 46
Thursday
Being a cup half full kinda girl it was the best timing possible that I got the flu full force Wednesday night, so I could be bedridden all Thursday. Having no big family dinner to attend, no one to see, nothing to cook and no country to celebrate the day with, it really wasn’t too troublesome to only want to eat crackers and drink liters of soup. Wasn’t missing much more than I would if I felt tip top.
Another perk of being ill is taking Spanish medicine. After the snappy pharmacist freaked on me for not knowing the word ‘mucus’ in Spanish (really though, when does that word come up in Spanish 1/2/or 3 partner conversations during the final exam?? No we don’t practice asking, “What does your mucus look like?” Back off white coat drug dealer, ok?) I walked out smiling because I had a bag of meds for only 5euro. It’s always interesting to encounter a new way of doing something you’ve done a different way all your life. Give me Dayquil and I know what to do. Bottle or pills, easy as pie. But opening the box of Spanish medicine I’m confronted by oddly shaped packets and I don’t know exactly what to do with them or how to take them. Bending to logic, I read the directions, oohhh, put in water. Duh. A magic elixir. The minute it passes down my throat I feel a subtle burst of energy; even though I’m still convinced I’m drinking Tang. But the placebo effect has been proven to work. I can’t wait till 6 hours passes and I can drink another packet.
It’s one of those lazy days when you’re too tired from doing nothing to do something. But it allows plenty of time for a longing to feel normal again to set in. sitting as miserable as mold on a bag of week old bread, I’m a bump on the bench watching the sunset thinking of all the times I griped about the ‘problems’ with normal. How stupid of me. I guess it’s appropriate to reflect on this day and to give thanks for the middle road. It’s wonderful when we zoom up on those miraculous highs of life, but really it’s the moments spent clawing to get back to that middle path that give the ‘nothing to write home about days’ their glory. And oh how I wished I felt normal.
I’d feel odd wishing you all the most normal of days, but in context of this piece I hope you’ll understand what I really mean.
May to day be nothing special and may that be wonderful.
(What if the quotidian were that satisfying?)
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!
[¡Feliz Día de Acción de Gracias!]
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