Well, what I have is probably not some dreaded, awful, deadly flu. It’s not ebola, typhus or the bubonic plague. I think what I have is probably just a common cold. I so rarely get sick, I’m never prepared for it. I tend to over think every symptom, until I’m sure I’m on death’s door. I woke up yesterday with the same headache, body aches and stuffy head that I’d had the day before. I called in sick to work.
After almost two weeks, with my new commitments and snazzy new chart for marking each day’s accomplishments, a couple days of not feeling good and I’ve lost all of my momentum. My daily cleaning time and exercise time, my promise to never go to bed with a single dirty dish in the sink, even my healthy eating and water drinking went right out the window at the first sniffle. All of my good habits were replaced – for 24 hours – with sitting wrapped in blankets, sipping tea.
Yesterday, my sick day, I would do better…I thought. I remember sick days that felt like bonuses, when amazing feats were accomplished to ward off the guilt of cutting class or work. I guess that only holds true if you’re not really sick. Yesterday, though I managed to be upright most of the day, I felt lousy. I managed to get some writing done, answered a few phone calls and wrote a couple necessary letters. I washed two loads of clothes. I simmered a pot of tomatoes, made sauce and put three quarts in the freezer. I made soup. I forced myself to clean up the mess I had made of the kitchen, before collapsing in bed at nine o’clock.
Enough! Today, it’s back to work, and back on track. I don’t have time for self-indulgent misery! Especially when it’s just the common cold!