Coming out of this sickness is a bit like a bout of depression. You know you should be in a much better mood, things are wonderful around you--but you just feel exhausted, and more than a little colorless, and there's so much to do that there doesn't seem to be any point in even trying to tackle it, because you just know you will never be able to make anything better. But you have to. People are depending on you.
Some good advice: do something you love, even if you feel you have no taste for it. Today I hauled out the paints and the stash of wooden projects on the craft shelf, and we went all out. I let the kids do it, and I just took what joy I could in watching them (and helping them when necessary, but not getting bogged down). And guess what? It was enough. After cleanup (which I knew I needed to spearhead) I still had enough energy to tackle a little of the massive project that is sorting our stored clothes, to put away two baskets' worth and put together a box of things for a little one who didn't have anything. And then at the end of it was a husband who rescued me with dinner. Some of my favorite things.
Go get started at the Gypsy Mama.