Because that's the most time that anyone can devote to an illness that is not completely crippling in today's ridiculous world. Oh, sure, if you have a heart attack or cancer or get run over by a bus, people are willing to give you a little more slack.
But for the garden-variety, creepin'-crud-type illness that fells us all a couple times a year, 24 hours is all you get, brother. You'd better be up and at 'em promptly by hour 25.
Tuesday afternoon I felt myself sinking into a viral funk. Nothing exciting -- merely that I lost the ability to perform the simplest tasks. Writing the simplest letter was beyond my capabilities. Printing an envelope would have been impossible. I struggled with Free Cell. Finally, I realized that I should just pack up and go home. I put together a bunch of stuff I could do from home if I felt up to it in the morning. In the end, I didn't even move the daily backup files from my memory stick.
In fact, my signal accomplishment yesterday was turning on my cell phone -- so that when my one paying client did call in the afternoon, I could tell her I wasn't in the office and wasn't feeling well. She hung up quickly. A thousand miles away, over the phone, and she acted like she was worried she might catch something from me.
And I don't blame her. After all, there's no slack given for the minor ailments that slow us down from time to time.
It wasn't an entirely restful day at home. We had a new roof put on most of the house yesterday. (How we got a new roof is worthy of a post in and of itself, so I'll put that up next.) The point here, however, is that, with roofers running around, there would be no napping. When the roofers knocked at the door, I had to figure out where they could plug in their equipment. In my fuzziness, I thought there was a plug outside, on the front of the house. (But, no, that was the old house.) After thinking awhile, I was pretty sure there was an outside plug, though, and I found one on the side of the house -- but I'd forgotten that it didn't work. Eventually, I found working plugs inside the house and got their equipment going. I proudly reported this achievement to Long Suffering Spouse when she called to check up on me at lunchtime -- and she promptly told me I was wrong. Didn't I remember that we'd talked about setting them up with the outlet inside the garage? (No, I didn't.) A few more questions along these lines -- and a few more non-responsive answers on my part -- and Long Suffering Spouse hung up on me.
I had the effective IQ yesterday of a coffee cup. An empty coffee cup. The excitement of the roofers notwithstanding, mostly I watched old movies that I'd put on the DVR and played a computer game and dabbed at my nose. Later, I finished a book I'd started over the weekend. I can't really be sure whether I even enjoyed the movies.
Whether I'm really so much better today is, I suppose, for the reader to decide.
3 comments:
Don't you love it, you pay a guy big buck to install a new roof and then you have to throw in the cost of the power to boot!
I hate when I'm sick. Sure, it's 24 hours until the (insert whatever horribleness here) stops, but then you still feel awful for another three days. Just not *as* awful.
And isn't there always something to do when you're sick? Usually I have all three boys around but sometimes I get lucky and my husband will work from home, saving me. I don't watch old movies though, for some reason, when I'm sick, I like to watch Food Network. You would think that would be appealing, but it is.
What a great dodge! "Yeah, Boss. Of course I was sick yesterday - didn't you read about it on my blog?" Conveniently entered on your Blackberry from Gately Stadium.
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