I picked up a virus somewhere this last week.
For once, I don't think it was from the airplane. I actually suspect the kids indoor play place we went the day after we got back. So many kids and to say the bathroom was unhygenic is to be putting it mildly. Very mildly! But whether I got the virus from the airplane or from that groddy play area, doesn't actually matter. Because either way, today I'm sick.
I feel mildly cruddy and need to rest and drink lots of fluids. That's all.
Nothing more, nothing less.
It's my mind that can easily (so easily) make more out of my having a little virus.
It can make up all kinds of stories. Of how much I would have gotten so much done if only I was feeling OK today. Of how we could have gone out and taken advantage of the nice spring-like weather today. Of how we could have had another impromptu luau.
But none of that matters. I can let myself be swayed by my mind's imaginings and get more and more irritated or I can remember that I'm OK and I have this moment. I can still make art and write and read on my iPad mini. I can rest. Drink a lot of tea. Lounge on the couch. Take a bath. Rest some more. Listen to the guitar lesson/ practice going on in the next room.
I have this moment. And that's enough. That is more than enough.