Big Ugly Man Doll

Recovering from pneumonia, I’m finding, is a lot like Hyperbole and a Half’s problems with surpassing her capacity for responsibility. I get to the office, filled with something resembling energy and a modicum of stamina, sufficient to get me through to about lunch.  Like Allie at the start of her productivity cycle, “I will do ALL the Things!”

Do ALL the Things! (From Hyperbole and a Half)

I sit at my desk, blasting through email like dynamite through a mountain, carving tunnels of solutions through problems of granite. I fight fires, I shape strategies, I sit in judgment. I do ALL the Things! And my lungs feel good, and I’m not coughing any more, and I’m not congested, and I’m not in pain, and I’m not in a pleasant drug-induced fog. I’m back, baby.

And then I roll a few things off the printer down the way by the microwave, and I stand up to run and get them. And there’s nothing there. No gas, hold the desk a moment, and start the slow shuffle over toward the printer. I cannot tell you how irritating this is. I have been, for a long time, a lethargic bum who gets no exercise – but that was by design, my choice, not because of a lack of energy. Energy has always been there when I needed it.

Do ALL the things? (From Hyperbole and a Half)

Now, by about 3:30 in the afternoon, I return to Hyperbole and a Half.  “Do ALL the things?”

Ooof. I’m beat.

I don’t think I can do all the Things today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll do more Things.

All done now.

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