I don’t think anyone does sick well. But I really don’t do sick well. When I’m getting sick, I’m a miserable human being and my tolerance levels for everyday BS plummet. That’s where I was yesterday afternoon, after a couple of days of general ick. My voice also started to go, which is never a good sign. But some times you can shake these things overnight. Nope. So, I took my second sick day of the year. Ick.
Needless to say, not a super productive day, even though the stuffiness mostly cleared up this morning. Lots of snoozing on the couch. Bit of knitting. Lots of Forensic Files. It’s crazy. I’m fine doing nothing of note when I feel well, but find it impossible when I’m sick. I resent having to take it easy. If I’m going to lay around being a miserable lump, I might as well go to work. Although, my colleague deserve neither my germs nor my grumpiness. At least I lucked out and didn’t have anything too pressing today (Thursday) work=wise, besides something I volunteered for and was kind of looking forward to doing. Next time.
Oh, and my cat? No sympathy whatsoever. No shock, but still… Jerk.