Sick Thoughts

I'm catching a cold. I'm a huge baby when I get sick; complaining and making all kinds of atrocious noises the very second I become congested. My Grandfather Beck was constantly sniffing his nose and clearing his throat. He would carry a white handkerchief with him and pull it from his pocket several times a day. I don't know if I have a memory of him in which he wasn't dealing with sinus problems. I myself want to crumble into a heap the moment I become infected like a pile of dirty laundry. People walking around me in disgust until I'm finally cured of my lepracy. 

Adam never gets sick. Just a few weeks ago the latest stomach bug ran rampant through the house hitting Alex, Mandy, and myself like a sledge hammer and completely avoiding Adam. Not so coincidentally he's also the most active of the bunch, playing a new sport every 6 weeks or so. 

Today is also the day after Brock's wedding anniversary. I forgot to call him and congratulate him on the occasion. Honestly I can't remember the last time I've talked to him about anything. That's a complicated story for a different day...

Other than that everything was normal yesterday. Normal is so underrated. I'd take normal any day of the week compared to a day filled with chaos. Is normal the best word? A better choice would be ordinary. My normal might be your chaotic mess. My chaotic mess might be your worst nightmare. It's all about what you are used to I guess.