I used to always maintain that I had found the key to longevity through careful observation of my twenty-five year old dog who used to spend twenty-two hours a day sleeping and two hours pooping and eating.
She’s dead now but I felt that this schedule worked for her and was determined to follow suit hoping to live to be at least 120 years old.
These past few weeks, weary of spending my days chained to the computer I enacted project “break away” where I spent fourteen hour stretches in my bed, lollygagged around my house in leisure wear and took the occasional trip outside the boundaries for some fun and frolic with the general public.
I thought I was looking and feeling GOOD! That’s right, plenty of sleep, great food to eat and endless hours to make lists of resolutions I could choose to do something about come the new year.
I am curled up in the fetal position on my couch with a splitting headache, a low-grade fever pounding ears running nose and a bad case of “I can’t keep my heavily lidded eyes from closing”.
This was the week I was going to enact project “full throttle from the cradle to the grave” and now with the myopic view from my sickbed I’m actually considering giving my five-year old a refresher course on how to drive for when I pass out during afternoon pick up rounds.
So, you just wait world. Next week, short of contracting Ebola I’m going supernova and kicking off the second week of 2011 with a bang.