He shrugged, sat on the edge of the couch, picked up the remote control, and began flipping through the twelve hundred digital cable channels.
I continued with my cleaning compulsion of bending over and picking things up like socks that didn't find their way to the laundry basket and papers that didn't find their way to the World Lit. homework bin at school. I choose to save my responsibility lecture for when my son, Max, returned from wherever. No sense hearing myself rant twice. (I am so glad those days are over!!!)
"I don't like resting," Greg said before he reached channel seventy-something.
I looked at him in disbelief. "You left for school at 6:45 in the morning and worked at the Y after that. Aren't you tired?"
"Nope," he said as he switched off the TV and headed for the shower.
"Do you want another tour of the bathroom? I think you forgot where the laundry basket is." I said.
Greg smiled. (I'm glad one of us did.)
I was reminded of this conversation last Saturday when my doctor came into my hospital room and told me I'd need two weeks of rest before resuming my normal activities. At the time it sounded good. My neck and throat were sore from the thyroidectomy he performed on the previous day and I felt groggy from the feel better drugs dripping into me from the IV. However, by Tuesday I found myself repeating Greg's words, 'I don't like resting.'
If I had the choice of spending a Saturday in a chair at the beach or one kayaking along the coast, I'd choose kayaking. The number one thing on my list of things to do when I travel to the Big Island of Hawaii is to climb Mauna Kea, the tallest sea mountain in the world. I enjoy resting for short periods of time, but two full weeks of no driving, working, physical activity, etc. seemed like too much.
I do, however, believe in allowing the body time to heal, so I adhered to my doctor's advice. What did I do?
I made time to remember my dreams when I woke up!
I contemplated about important issues while I looked out my living room window. Things like why do leaves flutter in different directions when the wind blows and why do leaves from the same branch fly in various directions when they are released from the tree? I knew I should have taken physics.
I read Gone Girl in 48-hours—the ultimate woman scorned revenge book. Wow! I will also be buying Gillian Flynn's other two novels, Sharp Edges & Dark Places. I love finding new authors who really know how to tell a story.
I traveled to the Hawaii on the Internet and made plans for when I go for real.
I nearly completed draft one of novel two.
I watched Doctor Zhivago from start to finish.
Surprisingly, I never had watched this movie before in its entirety.
I watched bits and pieces of the Today Show and learned why they've gone down in ratings.
Opinions on this are welcome.
I turned off the Today Show and welcomed the quiet.
Maybe that doesn't count as resting,
but it certainly was relaxing.
I definitely prefer the tiger story.
How about you?
This question will reappear on Kick Back Moments within
a few weeks, so watch the movie or read the book,
if you haven't already.
By the time my two weeks of healing are over,
I have a feeling I will have mastered the art.
How about you?
Do you prefer resting or moving?
In other word, when you first step foot on the beach, do you head for the chair or the water?