Shingles are for roofs and old people. I'm neither. I'm young. At least my brain still thinks I'm twenty. Unfortunately, this last week my body had to break the news to my head that it is not young, and I can no longer operate at the break-neck pace of a twenty year old. It did this by putting out a notice, a declaration, a shingle if you will. Several shingles.
Those of you who have had shingles, or a loved one who has, knows they are very painful and annoying. They are a viral infection of the nerves, related to herpes and chicken pox. And they aren't just for old people and roofs, they are for people like me who don't know how to say no (not to drugs, but to everyone's pet projects--including their own). They are for people who burn the candle at both ends and push their 50 year old body like it was years younger. Yeah, I have shingles.
So now I have to take it easy (doctor's orders). I guess that means "No" to the jungle of weeds in my garden for a while, "No" to my sister-in-law's sewing project she needs help with, and no to that room that needs painting. Oh well. But what can a person who is used to keeping busy do that has to take it easy for awhile? I guess I'll just have to sit down more . . . and write on the computer . . . perhaps finish that manuscript that I've been praying for help to finally get to.
Be careful what you pray for. You might get it. Just not in the way you had envisioned.
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