I woke up this morning and took stalk of all the parts of me that felt like shit. Shoulders are a big pain lately. Knees. Check. Ankles and wrists. Yep. I got out of bed reluctantly. Most of the time I feel better once I am up and around. The irony is, I don’t feel like getting up and around.

Recently, a friend and I were talking about the Meyers Briggs personality test. I told her that I used to be a solid ENFP with the biggest extrovert rating possible. I am now most definitely an INFP. I have become an introvert because, when you don’t feel well and you get exhausted easily, it’s not as fun to be around people. Sometimes you feel overwhelmed. Other times jealous.

Someone asked me, “But what does it feel like most of the time?”
“It feels like when you are just getting the flu and your chilled and everything is sore and you are spacey and you know you need to get in bed.”
That would be a good day.

Obviously I don’t get in bed even when I want to. I teach. I am a teacher. A very good teacher. I am a mom. A very decent mom. I am a wife. An okay wife. And all the things in between. I am all of those things and I am achy.

So I got out of bed and ached my way into little’s room to wake her up. She smiled crookedly and cuddled a bit before choosing an outrageous outfit. I checked with middle and big, fed the pets, and came in to school. I laughed with students and they begged me to read one more chapter of Copper Sun because no one reads like I do so it’s only fair, they reasoned. And in some hours I’ll go home to make dinner and pack lunches, and maybe get a long hug with the man.

I’ll slip into bed so achy.

But almost all the way happy.