Wait, come back! I promise, I'll mention dieting and weight loss at some point. OK?
But first I have to tell you a big secret, internet. The secret to happiness.
This is it: 1. do everything you want to do, and 2. don't do anything you don't want to do.
That's it. It's that simple, yet profound.
Now let me tell you how I managed it.
First of all, I got the croup. Maybe a better person can do whatever she wants (lying around like a slug all weekend long) and not doing whatever she doesn't want to do (three rehearsals, a church service, and an evening at the opera, not to mention the dishes) without using some illness or other as a crutch, but I'm a beginner at this, and I needed a truly heart-rending, in-your-face, hey! I'm sick! excuse in order to get away with blatant amounts of not doing the dishes, sleeping late, and ignoring my children.
And the croup worked perfectly. Between my hoarse, raspy voice, and my constant sneezing, coughing, and nose-blowing, a man would have to be completely clueless not to realize that my usual performance as ideal spouse (combining the good-natured humor of Hazel, the lovable maid in the eponymous television show with the efficiency of the robot from The Jetsons) is going to be somewhat diminished.
And so this weekend I read Deluxe, How Luxury Lost its Luster, a whole lot of Look Me in the Eye, watched Errol Flynn in The Adventures of Robin Hood, watched a whole season of Blackadder as well as some DVD extras, listened to the Bartimaeous Trilogy, Book 1: The Amulet of Samarkand, posted a whole lot of insulting remarks on the Weight Watchers community boards, and gave myself a pedicure.
And now for the diet and fitness update I promised you. I did not work out at all, and my diet? What diet? I don't have much of an appetite when I can't smell anything. Even with all the zinc tablets, hot orange-flavored fizzy drinks, and quarts of hot tea with lemon, I should have been fine, because I don't think lemons have many points. Neither does zinc, I'm sure.
Unfortunately, even when I have no sense of smell, I can still taste sweet and salty flavors, and I ended up inhaling a certain amount (OK, two bags) of microwave popcorn. Which I washed down with quarts of lemonade. I'm afraid when I add up the points, the total will leave me reeling in disbelief, and I'll have to take to my bed. Again.
But even if I do go up a pound or two, what does it matter, when I've discovered the secret of happiness?