Apparently whatever virus or bacterium that is currently waging war on my GI tract is truly sadistic and decided to invade on this, the most inconvenient of days.
I have a ton of work to do at the office today. My boss gets back from vacation tomorrow and she’s going to want a full progress report on every project I have. The projects are going fine. Preparing the reports will take forever. I left Thursday and decided not to bring work home with me because I needed the long break and thought today would be manageable, if busy. Bad decision.
I don’t think I slept more than a few hours last night. Mostly I laid in bed in between trips to the bathroom and tried to force sleep to come. That never works. I kept telling myself I’d feel better in the morning. Lies!
Whatever sleep I got must have come shortly before my alarm went off. It was one of the most unwelcome sounds I’ve ever heard. You know those cop shows where they burst in wearing full battle gear on a suspect when he/she’s in bed? That would be a more pleasant awakening.
I did manage to drag myself out of bed by repeating that this was not a day I would be sick. I thought I could talk myself into feeling well. I am strong! I am tough! No damn germy bug can keep me down!
I am very deluded. It seems “I Am Woman Hear Me Roar” is not my anthem today. It’s more “I Am Woman Hear Me Ralph.”
I took the dogs on a short walk. It was short because I didn’t know how my neighbors would react if I projectile vomitted onto their lawns. They don’t like dog poop. I can’t imagine puke is any more acceptable. And I do try to be a good neighbor, ya’ know.
I still thought I could make it into the office. Eventually I figured that if I couldn’t get through my morning shower without a quick side trip to the toilet, I may not be at my most professional today. No matter how boring the meeting or how inane the speaker, puking is just not an acceptable response. Plus there’s the whole spreading the contagion thing. People tend to frown on that.
So now I’m holed up in my big comfy chair. I have the computer in front of me. Cell phone at one side, landline on the other. The TV is blaring from across the room. I have a huge comforter pulled up to my chin (makes typing difficult) and a nice drink of flat 7Up in front of me. I keep thinking of that movie with Denzel Washington where he was paralyzed and had all this electronic equipment around him. I must look something like that… except I’m a girl and I’m white (kinda green today) and I’m nowhere near as cool as Denzel.
I don’t understand how I can get so sick so quickly. Shouldn’t it come on gradually or something? You feel a bit tired and “not quite right,” then nauseated, and it progresses as the germs make their way through your system. That way you’re prepared. Not so in this case. Damn germs launched a surprise attack, and I went from going to bed feeling fine to jumping up at some unholy hour of the morning to rush to the bathroom and vomit.
In addition to the vomitting, I have fever, chills, a headache, and I feel like I got a sudden onset of arthritis. It sucks to be me! Whine. Whine. Whine.
