Those of you who follow my blog know I haven't been writing as much lately. I'm going to blame it on my brilliance--all gifted artists tend to work in a manic/depressive form. During manic times, they create with abundance. During the depressive times, not so much. This is a depressive time. Personally, I am pretty damn sure that I'm not manic depressive, but since it's a sign of genius, I'm willing to consider it as a possibility. (I mean, we all realize I'm a genius, right? Right.)
This morning I was sitting on my deck watching the sky and the dogs (not at the same time, as they were in opposite vertical directions), thinking about what I was going to do today when I suddenly realized that maybe I didn't want to do anything at all. Every day I do some combination of about ten million things. I clean, I cook, I chauffeur, I launder, I run errands, I shop, I exercise, I teach, I worry and work and wreak havoc upon my mental facilities to make sure my family continues to function in a proper and necessary way. But what if I stopped? What if I just decided one morning that I was DONE? Would it really matter?
This is where it gets interesting.
Hell, yes, it would matter! My family would fall apart without me. B wouldn't have lunch, he wouldn't have clean clothes, the kids wouldn't be bathed or fed or have their homework done or their hair and teeth brushed or their lunches packed or permission slips signed or tuition checks written. No one would make the doctors appointments or take them TO the appointments or feed/bathe/take out the dogs or sign for the deliveries or buy the groceries or realize that neither of the kids' shoes fit any longer and they both need to be taken shopping. No one would know that Sutton takes a 1/2 a teaspoon of Zyrtec BEFORE bed or that he only eats oatmeal cooked in the microwave (not on the stove!) or that Bellamy has to be checked every morning to make sure she's not trying to go to school without panties (yes, this is a problem in our house).
And this is why I don't get sick days. I'm tired. I have a headache. I vomited four times today. But there is NOBODY who can fill my shoes, no substitute for me. Good or bad, I have no idea, but regardless it's true. There's only one me.