grey matters

I was going to compose a profound, insightful post about my whereabouts of late and the soul-crushing battle with bronchitis I've been engaged in for what feels like forever (but which has only been about 10 days or so), while simultaneously exploring the mild depression I feel whenever I am sick, and wrapping the whole thing up with a tidy, optimistic, see-it-when-you-believe-it bow that promises clear skies and nasal passageways are just around the corner.

But I just don't have it in me.

(I was going to include "possible exhaustion" with the bronchitis, but declined for two reasons: 1) the doctor didn't actually diagnose it; and 2) I have been sleeping so much over the past week, again with the sleeping, that I CANNOT POSSIBLY BE TIRED.)

The thought of writing anything at all — enough of an uphill climb on the healthiest of days — makes my heart ache in that way it does when my will out paces my ability to create, and the act of researching depression and its possible connection to the flu (research = normally a good fall back plan when production lags) was, well... depressing.

And so I turn, like many bloggers before me in need of material, to The List.

I'm not a big list maker (though maybe lists would help stave off the not-possible exhaustion?), but truth be told, I'm not a big anything these days, so bare that in mind. Also? I haven't eaten much in the past week, which probably explains the cravings for meat (I normally stick to a mostly-vegetarian diet). I don't know why this seems necessary to point out here, except that the lead-in paragraph to the list felt a little, um, lean.

(Did I mention I've been bed ridden for over a week?)

So here, then, in no particular order, is a list of things that have been going through my head. I can only hope that the physical act of writing them down will serve to purge.

1. Snippets of Andrew Lloyd Weber's "Close Every Door" from "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," which, as I have learned in the past 24 hours, he began working on at age 18. To wit:

Close every door to me/
Hide all the world from me/
Bar all the windows/
And shut out the light/

If my life were important I/
Would ask will I live or die/
But I know the answers lie/
Far from this world/

Close every door to me/
Keep those I love from me/
Children of Israel/
Are never alone/
For I know I shall find/
My own peace of mind/
For I have been promised/
A land of my own.

(God. Drama much?)

2. When it's not an ALW dirge, it's the "Gaston" song from "Beauty and The Beast," which is pure Disney silliness and not worth quoting here. Both struggle for top-dog position as the soundtrack to long, delirious nights in which I lay, exhausted and sweating, praying for sleep.

3. I am no longer green, as Julia observed about two days ago.

4. I am pretty sure I would commit a felony for a McDonald's double cheeseburger right about now. (Note: I have had maybe eight of these in my entire life.)

5. I have consumed, in total, probably about 5,000 calories in the past 10 days, yet do not feel any lighter. Isn't the deal with getting really sick that it really sucks, but at the end of it, you've lost a few pounds, so it's kinda worth it? Am I missing something?

6. Things like #5, above? They add to that overall feeling of failure I get when I'm sick. Like, I can't even do sick right.

7. You can, apparently, do nothing and achieve everything, as the sages say. Example: I have received two very promising job offers in the past week. This, after almost a year of looking.

8. Well, maybe not everything. While searching for the perfect words for #7 (can you tell?), I glanced over at my beside table and noticed a fine coating of dust on the picture frames and lamp. Also? All of the bathrooms need serious cleaning, and laundry, as Jerry is fond of reminding the girls, does not, after all, do itself. Who knew?

9. I may be — may be — at the half-way point in "Music from a Scorched Earth."

10. Which is nothing to sneeze at.

11. Except I thought I'd have a first draft done by now.

12. Tomorrow is the culmination ceremony for Julia. Six years at the same school, she did, K through 5. A big deal in this family of nomads. She still needs shoes. I still need... well, everything. And yet, the thought of showing up and looking presentable is completely overwhelming.

13. Friday is Johannah's eighth grade graduation, and the rest of this week is packed with dress rehearsals and performances. I haven't the faintest idea as to how I am going to get there from here.

14. I am addicted to yoga. And yet, the thought of getting into a hot room and working out for 90 minutes makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I wonder if I will ever have the courage to start it again? You know, after all of this.

15. I miss my husband. He's still here, of course, but he's spent part of this week on the fold-out couch because he had a big conference to attend this week that he couldn't miss. When he is around, I wake him claiming we've just had a terrible earthquake which is causing massive bloodshed, and shouldn't he check on the girls?

Carpool duties call now, so the list will have to stand at 15. It'd be nice to say that there was more to come, but no. This is pretty much what passes for my grey matter content this week. If you want something more entertaining, Heather over at dooce is about to go into labor, and Pamela Ribon (whose very funny "Samantha Who?" just got canceled) is blogging more now that she's out of a job. ABC's loss, our gain, I say.

Back more when the meds kick in, the bacteria (virus?) kicks out, and I have successfully exorcised show tunes from my addled brain.