Last week I called my mom to brag to her about how I am now officially a "modern woman". I've been at my new job for about two months and finally feel as though I have this whole working-girl thing figured out.
I've been traveling the past six weekends, working until 5 or later every night, making beautiful home-cooked meals for Anthony, volunteering with the church, attending nightly social events, and keeping up a regular exercise routine... all with freshly washed hair and dressed in my cutest spring outfits, of course.
We got back into town Sunday morning and I decided to take a little nap before I resumed my Sunday regimen of a 5 mile walk, trip to the grocery store, and cooking for the rest of the day. When I woke up it hit my like a ton of bricks: I was sick.
Not just a little sick: so so sick. Like, drop down, drag out, sick-as-a-dog sick. I could barely get out of bed.
I'm a firm believer that your body tells you what it needs. My body was begging me to stop moving and please please let it rest. I slept the entire day, waking only to have Anthony make me drink Thera-flu and kiss my forehead.
He also brought me Wolfgang Puck Tomato Basil Bisque. I try not to eat soup out of a can; it has so much sodium and there's always the fear of injesting BPA and getting cancer. I pride myself on making my own soups.... but, honey, when your this sick, you could not care less. It tasted so good.
So I'm home from work today and trying to give my body what it's asking for. Putting on the brakes is so hard. I guess I haven't figured out what being a "modern woman" really means yet. I have a feeling it may take a little less commitment and a lot more Wolfgang Puck.
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