Sickness, Catholic Guilt and Italian Sub Sandwiches

OK, so I’m laying here, sick as a dog with bronchitis — or what the Princess likes to fondly call the galloping consumption (and who the hell knows what else I caught while visiting my relatives in the beautiful snow-covered Wasatch Mountains) thinking about eating again, after chowing down an hour and a half ago, and wondering: Is it “feed a cold and starve a fever” or “feed a fever and starve a cold”?

 

And what, pray tell, do you do for an undernourished, bulbous, sick Buddha belly? Feed it? Starve it? Or send it to bed?

 

The Cream of Wheat and hard boiled egg that I ate 90 minutes ago isn’t cutting it and thoughts of a sausage and meatball sandwich on a toasted Italian sub roll smothered in parmesan cheese start dancing in my head.

 

Then suddenly I snap outta my feverish delusion and begin thinking maybe (just MAYBE!) sausage and meatballs loaded with parmesan cheese isn’t a medically sound choice for bronchitis (or my Buddha Belly) and maybe that chicken soup that I made for myself earlier may be a more reasonable choice for such a consumptive malady.

 

Damn!

 

Even when I’m sick, I’m guilty!

 

You’d think a recovering, guilt-ridden Catholic who has spent many a year cowering in a confessional, searching for absolution from sins so trivial and insignificant that I actually had to lie to sound more important (and spent many a year in therapy discussing why I did just that ) would have better things to do with her time.

 

But no, not me.

 

So here I sit, coughing a lung out and feeling sick as a dog (and looking a little blue around the gills) and all I can think about is how I shouldn’t be eating anything as exotic as sausage and meatballs and feeling as guilty as a nun in a house of ill repute.

 

Geesch!

 

Enough already!

 

I say whatever the Buddha Belly wants, the Buddha Belly gets!

(And if the Buddha Belly wants an Italian sub sandwich with a side of cheese puffs, then I say Miss Buddha Belly gets a sub sandwich with some cheese puffs.)

 

And if the Buddha Belly pukes up said sub sandwich and said cheese puffs then so be it….

 

Life’s too short and too precious not to enjoy the small stuff.

 

Go out and have a good one today, People, and be kind to yourself.

 

Catch ya next time looking at life from my shoes.

 

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