Manic Malaise

OCD + bed rest = How the hell would I know?

I fail at bed rest.

Within two hours I'm convinced I have bed sores and that cobwebs have taken over every corner in sight. Not to mention all the things that turn askew, and just beyond my reach. UGH!

Should any of you find yourselves confined to rest (nasty-tasting word) for longer than a day, and don't die from boredom nor dust invasion, here are some things you can do that will not raise the ire of those supervising you to make sure you don't slip away, only to be discovered later on a ladder outside hosing out the gutters. (Shhh...)

Kick things off with an elaborate list, on fancy paper, and lots of swirls, using every Sharpie you own, and compile an assortment of tasks you could never even finish if you were on steroids and lived to be 105. I'm hopelessly listy:


Everyone's favourite, and even bed resters don't get a break:

Sewing/mending/putting buttons back on counts as cleaning because doing it creates space on the vanity, where it has been for so long these shorts probably don't even fit Quinn anymore:


Rooting in purse guts and try to figure out why the fuck it weighs 800 lbs., remove two pens and a business card and hope that lightens the load by 30%. Also, on the left are my planner/brain-in-a-notebook, kind of like a bed-in-a-bag. I had the unique pleasure of sorting that bitch, consolidating 389479457 lists, tossing lists (the best!), trying not to rip the plastic cover while fishing a giant, unsightly surgical bandage from the front of my notebook, where my bad-ass political stickers are supposed to dominate. Oooh, and calling Verizon with a host of issues. Can it ever be easy? This task alone prompted me to volunteer for six days of unconsciousness. Finally, some medical records that don't fit in the mini notebook. Hm. I lay on the floor in my underwear staring at this hideous mess of glorious treasures, like a difficult Scrabble board, and then I pounce and sort, crumple, stuff, and shred, and voila! A clean purse two pounds lighter. (The key is POUCHES within the notebook!):


Frosting the cupcakes Reilly made for her friend Lisa, because she was in a hurry. (Is she ever not?) I got ONE cupcake out of the bargain, but that's because she wanted to give exactly 25, lol:


Serious violation, even though I didn't get in. We didn't stay long because Quinn grew out of his trunks and couldn't swim. We had just come from the doctor, where she said he is off the charts height wise and has the physical maturity of a 16 year old. (He's 11.) He's *thisclose* to his dad's height, though Evelin said he will far surpass mine too. I mean, everyone in our family is hell of over six feet tall, I just didn't expect it at 11, you know? Still, I was so exhausted after this, I decided maybe the docs are onto something. Still, it's a way not to move while your kids have fun and you get sweaty and burned and listless :) :


So there are some ideas, should any of you find yourselves sentenced to limited immobility and no one trusting you, lol.


(Psssst...anyone here a bed rest rebel desperate to do something, without pissing off the warden? If so, keep reading. I will deny all involvement should you get caught, however.)
-Lint roll your bed while you're in it.

-Wipe down your night stand and de-clutter it.

-Clean some window tracks if you can reach any.

-On your way to the bathroom, rotate laundry, straighten mats, wipe down washer/dryer...

-While in the bathroom (door locked duh!): Wipe down counters, doorknobs, sink, counter, toilet, shake mats into the shower, empty the watebasket, use a kid wipe to swipe the floor (there's ALWAYS hair or dust!), straighten towels, gather bath toys, etc.

-Use any furlough to clear a surface, throw something away, wipe something down, fix/straighten.

-Ask your caretaker for something and then get up and dust the trim or a desk, whatever.

My big goal, in the next four days, is to put all the photographs I've ever owned (what's a photograph right?) into these specialized boxes I bought when I used to scrap. I think I might rather wake up to a colossal squid beside me than sort this heap of photographs starting with my great x eight grandparents on both sides (because I'm the organized one) up until I stopped taking picture-pictures of Quinn and Reilly when we got a computer way back when.

Come to think of it, I choose rest.