Home sick…

photo of an old-fashioned glass thermometer

Homesick by Vladimir Agafonkin via Flickr

A sick day today. Not a going-through-a-box-of-tissues-coughing-myself-into-a-headache sick day, but the sick day you take when you realize one of those box of tissues days is coming and you’re desperately hoping a day of rest will avert it.

I’m not very good at sick days. Which is surprising because I pride myself on being a good slacker. But it turns out I’m only good at sick days when they’re really mental health break days and I have the energy to putter and go to the movies and generally get up to all sorts of shenanigans while everyone’s at work. I suck at the low energy sick days because I feel like I should be doing something other than just lying here in bed trying not to be sick.

I blame my mother. And my grandmother. And the long line of women I come from who don’t know how to just sit still. For example, on the rare occasions my mom comes to visit, in between reading her Bible or the large print romance-novels-with-a-message she’s currently into, she’ll pick up bits and pieces of lint and popcorn kernels and veggie burger crumbs from the living room carpet. Then with a gloating smile say, “See, you don’t even need to use a vacuum cleaner to clean.” That’s her idea of a day of rest.

Even now as I’m typing this, I’m thinking about doing a little bit of agency work so I don’t feel too slammed tomorrow and I can leave a little early for my two-days-before-my-birthday party sans guilt. Oh, who am I kidding? The sitting around guilt will be gone by then. Unlike today when it’s been snuggled up in bed with me the whole time. Sigh…

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Posted on January 5, 2012, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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