I have very little free time, so I look forward to Sundays when I normally have a few hours to do what I want to do, which usually includes some reading, writing, and syncing my iPod or something. As it turned out, the wellness gods conspired against me, because I woke up feeling fatigued and it never improved. I lay in bed and contemplated reading, but I couldn’t focus. I didn’t feel like writing, either, so I just lay there and thought about how unfair it was that I had free time, but didn’t feel like doing anything with it. And after lying in bed all-day, I went to bed early, so I might feel better to go to work the next day.
I didn’t feel much better when I woke up at 5:45 a.m. I’ve never missed a day of work at my current job, so I had an incentive to go in, but I felt exhausted. So as I’m lying in bed, conserving my energy and trying to determine if I could actually make it into the office, when I feel something fall on me and scurry between my legs. On the plus side, the surprise certainly got me up and out of bed. I flipped on the light just in time to see a cockroach dive off my bed and disappear behind the headboard.
Normally, I try to be zen about insects and offer a live-and-let-live attitude, but I’m afraid that I had to beat this roach to death with a shoe, which completely burned up the small amount of energy I had conserved by remaining in bed all-day Sunday. I ended up calling in sick for the first time at my current job.
I stayed in bed all-day Monday, but I felt so bad that I couldn’t really sleep. I went to work on Tuesday, but only lasted three hours, before I came home and went back to bed. I lasted through the end of the work day on Wednesday, but came home and went straight to bed. I was exhausted. Thursday evening was the first time that I didn’t feel that I needed to go immediately to bed. I still sound like Marge Simpson after an all-night tequila crawl, but I feel much better.
What do you hate most about being sick?