In my struggle to decide if I’m sick enough for the couch or giving into the pleasure of reading a little too soon, I’ve found the million dollar question: Can I bake something?
As much as I love to read, baking will always win out. If I feel well enough to bake, I will do it. Because I always, always want to do it. There are plenty of times that I want to bake and have to talk myself out of it because I know I’ll totally wear myself out. But if I am physically capable of it, I will.
So I ask myself if I want to — and can — bake. If the answer is yes, then I know I’m well enough to do the minutiae of life. Sometimes I’m even clever enough to choose to baking over minutiae.
Yesterday was a good migraine day. The pain was mild to moderate all day and I wasn’t nauseated, dizzy or lightheaded. Did I read e-mail that’s been languishing in my inbox, put things on eBay, pack up stuff to donate or buy groceries? Nope, nope, nope and nope. I baked gingerbread.
It wasn’t even a simple “Hmm, I want gingerbread” thing. I haven’t been to the grocery store in so long that I was limited to a recipe that used no more than one stick of butter and one egg and didn’t require milk. What a triumph when I found the recipe winthin my parameters!
After a short rendezvous with my Kitchenaid and some help from the oven, I had tasty, fluffy gingerbread within an hour. I even cleaned the kitchen when I was finished.
I’ve been too sick to do the chores I have to do. That means I’ve also been to sick to do what I want to do. It’s practically instinct to work first and play second. Instead, I chose pleasure over work and have no regrets. I took a a huge step yesterday and am pretty proud of myself.