When it comes to being sick I must admit it; I’m just no good.
I picture that some people are good at being sick. What that looks like in my mind is someone who doesn’t mind lazing around. Slinking. Slothing. They are happy and content to sloop and watch- oh, I don’t know- soaps? Nature channel? Documentaries? Glee? Oprah? Ya got me, I don’t know. That’s because I’m no good.
Luckily it doesn’t happen all that often, with the acception of course of that long year when I worked in a K-2 special ed class. Hellooo petri dish. That was the pits. This one kid in particular- the Germ House. He should have won a prize or something. Man. I caught the stomach bugs from him, ear stuff, sore anything possible… All the way up to the last two weeks of school before summer, I remember recovering from a throat infection and saying to my man at the time, “Uh! Well, at least that is over with. There’s only one week left. I got this. Nothing else can touch me now. I’m in the clear.” Two days after this declaration pink eye appeared in my right eye. I vividly recall the fear I felt, knowing that all that stood guard between eyes was the bridge of my nose. My nose is not dainty, but by God the bridge is certainly not sizable for defense. By the end of that week I had pink eye in both eyes. He got me good, that kid. Made me sicker than dirt. All the time. Like chemy, beige, depleted dirt where no invasive weeds even grow or something. That was 3 years ago. I haven’t got ill apart from that year from health-hell for a while.
And so now, at the return of the school year, guess who’s a sneeze n’ drip factory. This girl. It is an odd and uncomfortable thing to be sick on the 2nd and 3rd day of work. My ego is running laps and doing jumping jacks trying to be resilient and not be crushed. Who wants the boss to think they are a weeny? Or a crier? Yick.
I actually went in today and much like a plague victim would be treated, they took one look at me and told me to get outta there. So I did, semi excitedly because I’m not feeling up for it, but also crummy because I really want to be there. Plus, like I said, I’m not very good at just lamping around and doing a whole lotta nothing. At least not off the beach or off vacation or in the states for that matter.
So now I virtually have a snow day. It’s the same feeling, but just with the sick counter part. And so I have compiled a list of what I will do today that demands little to no energy.
1. Make CDs for friend’s going away party (tonight (ahem))
2. Go to Ross and get cheap sheets to cover back of car to protect from shedding dog
3. Car wash
4. Tea and tea and tea and pee x3+3
5. Sell books to Powells and get a new one to read… ON THE COUCH. That’s right- I’m capable
6. Nap? Ha.
7. Wash sheets because tomorrow is health-only-acceptable day and new sheets will be lovely and not germy
8. Get more tissues (possibly earlier on the list)
9. Drink more potions of lizard tales, bat wings, ant balls, grapefruit seed extract and what the hell
10. Write a surplus of stories so that I don’t have to have month lapses on this here blog
So now, a question: Is the purpose of rest supposed to include the head or do you think it’s ok to have a lot of mental activity going on during down time? This is day two of me supposed to be sitting on my keester. Wack. Who out there has this sick biz dialed? What do you do? Tips please.
Pigeon Heart Ponderings 