In The Grip

The Yuck Monster got me. He scratched up my throat, tangled my tummy and plugged up my nose. He took away all my oomph and replaced it with lethargy and achey joints. I’ve turned into someone else, someone who can barely think past self suffering pitiful thoughts while guiltily getting nothing done. I am in his grip and I’ve no energy to fight back.

I’m left to lounge in bed and watch telly or slowly pass the time drinking juices and teas and taking vitamins and feeling miserable. I take stabs at being productive and I can manage it in shorts bursts, but before long I give up before I’ve accomplished really much of anything, and I flop back into bed again, feeling like a loser. Nothing serious is wrong thank goodness, I’ve just been caught by the grip of the common cold, the kind that sets you back and sadistically reminds you just how much of a gorgeous day you are wasting.

Even in the moments of misery, I know the Yuck Monster is getting weaker. Tomorrow or the next day I’ll probably be fine, and I know I shouldn’t complain. But one of the worse tricks of the Yuck Monster is that he loosens your tongue so you feel compelled to complain and whine, and generally act as unpleasant as you feel.

I am sorry to pass on these sickly thoughts, but perhaps you can save this one weed post for one of your own sick days. Bring it out while you are laying in bed and maybe it will make you feel a tiny bit better! At least you’ll know you are not alone.

Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.

We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.

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