Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Sick of being sick ... and scooping pig poo

I am still sick. It's been three weeks and I am still sick. I can't stop coughing, coughing, coughing. I would give anything to be laying on my parent's couch with a warm blanket tucked around me, the smell of chicken soup cooking wafting to my nose, my mom rubbing my back telling me everything is going to be okay, and waiting for my dad to get home with the treasured bag of medicine to make me feel better. I don't know what it is about being sick that makes my mature (debatable?) 27 year old self resort to feeling like I'm 10. Last night I caught myself feverishly crying out "mommy". What I wouldn't give to have my mom and dad nearby and I wish that Benders was right around the corner. Benders, for the unaware, is the drugstore my dad owns that offers affordable solutions to all of your home health care needs. Check it out!

The one good thing about having a stuffed up nose is that I can't really smell right now. Which is a plus while mucking out pig pens. We moved the piglets to an open pen so we could dig out theirs and put in clean fresh straw. The farm does this about once a year. So yeah, imagine a years worth of straw soaked in pig shit and piss (pardon my french). Wheel barrow after wheel barrow and it seems like hardly any progress has been made. But even though I said I couldn't really smell right now, the smell is still horrible. I don't even want to think what it would be like if I was snot free and breathing easy. I shudder.

It's a big job and it is causing me to feel very weak and that I don't have any muscle. Like my body is strictly made of fat and flab. As I'm scooping up layers of foul straw I'm begging my muscles to pull it together and do their damn job.

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