Even the dog sees it. I get up ten minutes or so every hour or so. This means I'm better. I sit down and cough a bit afterwards, but not as much as before. I am quite happy with this turn of events.
So, if I can clear away half the lunch dishes and step outside and feed the birds, then I can take the dog for one of our nice long walks, right? After all, I'm up.
Uh, no.
The kids see it, too. If I'm up for ten minutes, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to stay up for three hours, right?
Now if only I had enough air to be able to explain to everybody that ten minutes is it for now. But I'm only allowed one item from column A OR one item from column B. I can either walk around OR talk. Not both.
I'm thrilled with ten minutes. It's not even two in the afternoon and I'm dressed and my hair is fixed and my teeth are brushed. The house is mostly tidied up. Sometimes I just have to explain things like why I haven't finished clearing all the lunch dishes yet.
I've been sitting so much this month that my legs are a bit wobbly. If you've ever been in the hospital for a few days, you know what I'm talking about.
It's nice to step outdoors for a minute.
Gotta go--somebody's bringing me an onion and a green pepper and some leftover meat and a knife and a plate so I can cut up things for chili.
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