I’ve been sick for a week now and am getting better oh-so-slowly. It’s an opportunity to work on being patient with myself and my body, but lessons in patience are my least favorite kind. This lesson has included changing my expectations in big ways, from skipping a chance to see Chihuly Nights at the Denver Botanical Gardens to canceling my plans to fly to Maryland and visit with my family, all in the name of taking care of myself.

Today, I’m focusing on these words of A.A. Milne’s:

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

To not be in a hurry is not natural to me, and seems especially out of place during NaNoWriMo, when I trying to write a novel as fast as I can. I’ve had to take days off from the novel, and to wait until my energy level is high enough for me to put in some time at my computer. I keep telling myself all will be well. If I can be patient and give myself the time I need, I’ll be healthy again, and this love affair I currently have with Ricola cough drops and Throat Tamer tea will be a faint memory.

In the meantime, I’ll pretend I’m a river, with no need to hurry. Maybe if I’m a river, I can wash away this damn bug.