The relative silence here on my part is the result of constant low-level queasiness that makes it hard to focus on much besides clicking around or wishing there was some food in the house that I felt like eating. Many household activities such as homeschooling and laundry have ground to a halt while I work diligently at vital occupations like growing a baby, suppressing my gag reflex, and trying to stay awake. As sorry as I am to see the laundry taking over the upstairs, I mourn even more for the loss of a necessary stimulant: tea.
I loved tea, and I still love it, in concept. But now tea, in all its acidic glory, revolts me -- maybe because a few weeks ago I threw up a cup of tea I'd had on an empty stomach. Yes, such things color one's impressions. Even now, as I write this, I'm clenching my lips against queasiness.
This lip-clenching is a constant around here, and it affects my ability to speak. Darwin is used now to our conversations suddenly devolving into hums on my part. For example, a sample conversation might go like this:
Me: Well, we did some reading, and then I made the girls lunch mmm mmm.
Darwin: I hope you don't mind, but I bought lunch today with the team. Anyway, there was nothing in the fridge.
Darwin: Oh, by the way, my manager says this new role might fit me to a T...
Me: NGM nnn mmm.
So, no more tea for the time being. I'm searching for a substitute warm drink. I love cocoa, but even though I don't put much sugar in it I'm reluctant to drink anything sweet because I've also given up exercise-like activities such as moving. (Also, if the children catch me drinking cocoa they insist on having some as well, and nothing stains clothes like spilled cocoa.) Hot water with lemon and honey sounds good, as does warm cider, but there are no lemons or cider in the house because no one has been to the store with a comprehensive list in weeks. I've always found chai vaguely disgusting, and coffee gives me the jitters. I have several boxes of tea in the pantry, but I can't even look at them right now. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
Ah, but as I always say: mmmm mmm mm.
Hamilton: An American Tragedy
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