A Little Hypocrisy

I'm a hypocrite.

In my work as a nurse I get the opportunity to tell people to buck up. What they're going through is not the end of the world. There's always someone out there who has it worse.

Yet, when I'm sick, I turn into the world's biggest whiner. I get lazy, grumpy, and sometimes just plain mean.

This past week I've been a slug. I do nothing but lay around. I make myself get up and do the necessary things, but it's a struggle. I don't feel like eating, and consequently cooking, so Curious George has sort of been fending for himself. My throat hurts, my sinuses are full to the point of exploding, and all of the nastiness going on in my body is making me nauseous. Yeah, I'm whining. It's my blog, so what.

Anyway, back to being a hypocrite: Curious George told me to buck up. He told me that my life was not ending. It was just a sinus infection and I would get through it. And you know what I did? I cried. I broke down and bawled like a baby. Let me tell you, it didn't help the congestion any. So, most of the time I'm pretty mellow and even. I don't get riled up about much. So, when I break down like that it scares him a little bit. He quickly began to backpedal.

I reassured him that I was fine, I was just being a baby. And then I realized what a hypocrite I am. How can I expect to tell people with life-changing health problems to buck up when I melt down over a sinus infection?

But you know what? I still look something like this:

so I'm going to milk it for all it's worth!