A House of Cards

I’m sitting at a cafe in central Copenhagen. I’m sick, in the traditional way with fever shakes, sore throat and goo trying to escape my nose.

But life doesn’t stop just because I want it too. I still have places to go and people to see.

The worst part is that I actually WANT to go to these places and WANT to see these people.

And at the same time I just want to curl up like a sleeping cat lying in the sun. And hiss at everything that disturbs my slumber.

When I was a teenager my parents would look at me solemnly and shake their heads in worry. “You’re burning your candle in both ends, dear. It’s not good for you.”

I’d shrug them off and insist that I was able to handle it. I knew the limits of my own capabilities, or so I thought.

Here I am, almost 10 years later, and I still haven’t learned my lesson. I’m beginning to doubt if I ever will.

There is just so much stuff that I want to do and I’ll be damned if I let one of those awesome opportunities slip away from me. So I work 25-30 hours a week at an awesome job. And I study for my masters at an awesome school. I see my awesome friends and my awesome family and I and try to keep my apartment clean. (yeah, let’s be honest – that last one doesn’t really happen)

And I’m usually able to keep on top of everything. I really am able to handle it.

But then something as stupid as the common cold comes around and knocks me out and the pretty house of cards that I’ve built around myself falls apart.

Yeah. I need to sleep. And then tomorrow I’ll rebuild my house of cards. I'll make it real pretty this time. And it will hold for a couple of months again. And that is fine. All I need is a couple a months.

Changes are acoming.

But for now, please excuse me while I get on with the 'going to places' and the 'seeing people'. And then tonight I'll have my much deserved sleep.

/cat yawn