Being sick for a few days isn't so bad. Normal people call in sick from work and lie around the house guilt-free in their PJ's, reading books, watching movies, and sleeping like they were in college again (that is, until 1pm). It turns out, I am not a normal person.
Because work is at home (for the most part), it's really difficult to "call in sick". To make things worse, while I sit and moan on the couch, Chris sits at the computer working. It's such a buzz kill to have someone working all day in front of you when you're trying to be a sloth.
Every time I find a little once of energy, I find myself answering emails, planning things, and making pathetic attempts at creativity. I get nothing done, but I don't feel rested, either. It's like a vicious, sleepy cycle.
For some reason, I don't feel justified in actually relaxing. Maybe it's because I'm not throwing up-- I'm just achy, sniffly, and incredibly wiped out. Tonight, when Chris left me to go to my creativity workshop, I answered emails & worked. I tried to read a depressing book on the fate of Africa for our Uganda trip, but I couldn't concentrate. I could be lying on the couch watching a chick flick, but somehow I feel guilty doing that. Instead, I'm huddled under a blanket, trying to squeeze out cohesive sentences onto a blog. Something is seriously wrong in my head.
So here I slouch, sharing my muddled, sick thoughts with the cyber world, hoping that someone will tell me to get off the computer and turn on Pride & Prejudice.
Help me.
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