I've got the black lung, Pop!

I have acquired the plague.

Or a head cold.

But definitely one of the two.

Have you ever noticed that people get over their sicknesses differently?

You have those that just want to burrow under 7 blankets, watch TV and go in and out of consciousness.

You also have those that, while they may stay home, they are not sitting down. They are paying bills online, balancing checkbooks, folding laundry and cleaning the gutters.

Last of all, you have the social healers. These are people that feed off the energy of others. They choose to power on through the funk.

I am a burrower. I think most Moms fall in the second category. The social healers are the ones that kill me.

The last thing I want to do when I'm sick is be forced to be social, presentable or, worst of all, pleasant.

When I'm sick, I want to whine, bitch, moan and wallow. It's one of the few times it's allowed and I personally savor it.

The worst thing in the world is when all you want to do is sleep and die but you have a friend who says, "Oh, I'm sick, too. Wanna go to a party tonight?"

This person may very well be just as sick as you, but does not understand why you're being such a baby about it.

I think it's very important that someday I locate me a strapping, burly gentleman who lets me make forts out of blankets and pillows on the couch, while eating box after box of Mac 'n Cheese.

Just a thought I had.