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I’m not a good sick person. I don’t know how to let myself be sick. I keep seeing the laundry that needs doing or the sink of dishes that needs washing. I keep thinking of all the things we need at the store. I take a nap, and I wake up and feel guilty that I was wasting time not doing anything.

I’m not sure how I became someone who doesn’t know how to relax. Growing up, I was spoiled and didn’t have any chores. I never did much around the house because my Mom did it all. You would also think that my lack of relaxation would also mean my house is neat and spotless, but it’s not.

My house has that messy lived-in look – kind-of like the house I grew up in. Our house was not the neatest or the cleanest, but it was full of love. My Mom did that. That was the extra touch she added. I like to think that my three men think the same of me and our house. We’re not wealthy, we don’t have new things, and our house is usually cluttered. I try to hold the chaos together with love.

And now that I’m sick with the flu, I have to sit back and let the chaos get more chaotic for a little while. I kind-of have to because I feel so rough around the edges. Feeling terrible puts a damper on the guilt. Maybe that’s a good thing after all.