Sunday's Child

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is happy and wise, and good and gay.^[1]

I was born on a  Sunday and learned the above rhyme as a child.

While I very much doubt that the rhyme really has any predictive attributes, I have always aspired to be that Sunday's Child.

When I'm sick, however, all of that goes out the window.

It started with my voice going 'funny', then coughing, then nose running, accompanied with low grade sinus headaches and lethargy.

One of my life lessons has routinely been 'acceptance with grace'.  I think I'm getting the 'acceptance' thing.  Still working on the 'grace'.

What do those words mean to me?

Acceptance is acknowledging that I am sick and not functioning very well at the minute and it is time to step down from my expectations of doing even the little that I had managed to recapture after a year of adverse drug effects.

'Grace' to me means not whining about it.

Not doing too well on that front.

I am so close to finishing the 50 yard warp - like maybe 5 yards (four towels?) left to do.  I had planned on being able to cut that warp off the loom today.  But it isn't going to happen.

Instead of kicking the metaphorical tires of my energy levels, I am going to try to work on things that don't require a lot of physical energy, which means hemming towels and fringe twisting.

And let the conference work simmer until I get more responses from the people I emailed over the weekend.  

(Just deleted a whiny sentence.  Still working on that 'grace' thing...)