I am sick.
I am currently writing this blog on my break from doing some work at home on Wednesday.
I wonder if we should tell the client that their proposal was worked on under the influence of cold medicine.
I'm hoping that when I wake up tomorrow that I can laugh, saying, "Aww, that blog post I wrote yesterday when I was sick; how cute. I remember that low hour--but all is well now!" That's partly because I have a lot to do tomorrow (I mean today, Thursday), and because sickness is a mind-altering state in more ways than one.
When you are sick, you can't remember what it felt like to be well. The virus alters your memory so that good health seems like a distant dream from deep in the night, and only a whisper of recognition remains. All of your energy and time and drugs and cold-compresses and DVDs are focused on relieving all the yuckiness you're feeling at that moment, and that feels like it is never going to leave. Like your ears.
Sickness, in short, stinks. I don't mean to be such a complainer. In fact, I have always struggled a bit with my own illnesses and sufferings. I am such a baby.
Ok, so since this is still Wednesday (for me) and not Thursday (like for you), I can make a change now to focus more on redemptive suffering ("offering it up").
Colossians 1:24: "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church."
"Paul doesn’t mean that Christ’s death is insufficient for universal redemption. He is simply saying that his own incorporation into the mystical body of Christ (the Church) means that his sufferings can be helpful for other members of the body (the Colossian Christians to whom he is writing). They are helpful only because Paul is united to Christ in his Church and is offering his sufferings to Christ for the sake of the Church.
In the same way, suffering souls can similarly offer up their sufferings for the benefit of others."--Catholic Answers (Catholic.com)
Process begun. Hopefully, I can keep it going long after this cold becomes a distant dream from deep in the night, and only a whisper of recognition remains.