I'm under the weather today (literally, as it just hailed outside my window) so I'm hunkering down and taking care of myself. For some reason, however, I still lay in bed and moan, hoping my mother with materialize to take care of me. That's what I did as a kid and it worked like a charm.
Today, however, the only response I get to my wailing is in the form of my unsympathetic cat, who has more important things on his mind (namely, his next feeding). Sadly, one of the things I miss out on as a single gal is someone to take care of me. (Mac Daddy, I love you but you are a bit selfish.) As a self-employed person, I don't get a sick day either. I just take a quick tub, all the while fretting about the work that's not getting done. Boo hoo, right?
When I was sick as a kid, my mom would make me poached eggs on toast with a glass of 7-Up or cup of Lipton tea to wash it all down. I still seek out the same comfort food when I have to fend for myself. I don't know if I like any of it; it's just that I like the memories of love and caring that accompany it.
I've gotta go; the tea kettle is whistling.