Mmm. Kleenex with lotion.

I've been stuck at home the past two days, in the throes of what can best be described as The Most Hellacious Sinus Infection Ever. I get these things once, maybe twice a year. They are always awful, and then they pass. But this one hit hard and fast: It's the kind where, when you feel a cough coming on, you get a little scared because you know the burning in your chest is going to hurt like a fothermucker. My entire upper body feels like it's underwater. I've been sweating and blowing my nose and I couldn't drink all day yesterday because the act of opening my mouth made me nauseous, which also means I can't speak, and for some reason every single one of my teeth hurt, and last night, for the first time since I had tonsilitis in high school, I sat on the couch and cried from the pain. I whined and regressed. It was just bewildering. I was shocked by my complete inability to handle something that is a fairly regular affliction. Weird.

But I'm fine. I went to the doctor this morning and am amply drugged. I'm still on the couch, sweating. I can't hear a thing because my head is so stuffed, but it's turned out to be a lovely surprise because, with not being able to hear, the TV is off, and I'm just passing the time in silence. Silence happens so rarely. I'm enjoying it.

The timing and depth of all of this, well, phlegm, confirms the initial suspicions I had a couple days ago when I began to have a bear of a time getting out of bed. This is definitely all more than just a sinus infection. This is release. This is change. This is — to be honest — good.

In the past week and a half, I've amped up my workout regimen, I've completely changed my diet, I've started to detox my body. And then Josh got a job.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last week, he registered with a temp agency that hires for nonprofits. By Wednesday, they'd placed him in a long-term temp gig at an excellent foundation, and by Thursday, he was waking up and going to work. This might not sound like much, but this hasn't happened in our house in a very, very long time. He's beside himself. Thrilled. He finally made the first HUGE step in a very challenging career change, and what's more, they're actually going to use him as opposed to sticking him behind a desk and making him answer phones — a rarity in the temp world. He feels like a human being, not a person in flux. This job could turn into, or lead to, absolutely anything. Needless to say, the mood in our apartment has completely changed. We're relaxing. We're talking about going on reading dates, because to pretentious nerds like us, that just sounds like a fun thing to do. We actually went out for dinner to celebrate. At a restaurant. I had tuna tartare! Fancy!

So I feel like my body is reacting to all the change. Seeing him go to work every day, knowing that a sizable chunk of responsibility has just been lifted from my person — I guess I'm letting go. And this whole food/exercise thing, I mean, who knows how long that'll last (I've tried to revamp the bod a million times throughout my life, but this seems to make sense this time, so whatever blahblahfatcakes). But when you're ridding your body of nefarious whozits and what-nots, it's not unheard of to get sick as it all makes its way out. So I'm sweating out the stress and sweating out whatever else was in there, and it's been miserable, and there's mucus involved, but I can't help thinking it's a good thing. My body knows more than I think it does. It knows that, right now, the very best thing for me, after operating the way I have been for so long, is to be flattened on the couch, unable to move. It might be unpleasant, but I'm getting a break. And it's all part of how things just keep getting better.

And, with that, a nap.