Saturday, March 7, 2009

If a nap can't fix it, nothing can.

When I was a young one, my paternal grandmother was the wisest woman alive. She was funny, enjoyed life, and was always dispensing nuggets of wisdom to me. She smoked Winstons (red pack) which she kept in the fridge, but shook daintily out of a gold case and always got flaming red lipstick on the filter end. She smelled good. And unlike the rest of the family, she did not go to church. But she could get the best service in any restaurant we went in, flirting outrageously with the waiters and maitre d s. "It's because I'm cute!" she would always tell me, and she was right. of course, her nose was too big, and she had developed a little pot belly in her later years. But she could pull it off with style. And no one ever forgot her, ever.

Every afternoon she lay down for a couple of hours to take a nap. This, she said, was as necessary, as breathing and food, and without it, people were a real bitch. To illustrate she would point out any number of my other female relatives. Being related to them, I had to agree. There was some bitchiness there that church just could not even begin to address.

So this is a mantra that has stuck with me. I do not live by it, hence my own bitchiness. But I do embrace it when I can, or when I get too sick for my own damn self. This afternoon I took a nice 2 or 3 hour nap, and it *did not do a damn bit of good.* So I think it is time to take Kim's advice and jettison the meds and if the MD does not like it, jettison the MD. He is wet behind the ears anyway. My granny would have eaten him alive. And I would have enjoyed watching that. That, dear reader(s) would have made me feel better. Any takers?

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