Sometimes I’ll see someone on the train on their way into work, sniffling and sneezing and snuffling, and I think, silly person, why don’t you just stay home and rest and get better, surely whatever it is you have to do can wait.
So on Friday night my nose started running. On Saturday I sneezed but didn’t feel too bad. On Sunday I was worse, but convinced myself that if I spent the day quietly, at home, I would be fine for work on Monday. And on Monday, yesterday, I thought I was feeling a little bit better, I thought I was sure to improve throughout the day, so I pulled myself together and went into work, because I had things to do. And I spent the day at my desk feeling sick and miserable and self-conscious, because I was sniffling and sneezing and snuffling, and getting progressivly worse.
So now, I am still sniffling and sneezing and snuffling, but I am home, which makes a huge difference for many reasons, but three that stand out are:
Reading and dozing, dozing and reading – It’s winter, but today is sunny and my chair is in just the right spot, nice and warm. I’m reading Wicked, by Gregory Maguire, which is a ripping good yarn, and easy to get back into if I close my eyes for five minutes.
Tea and pottering – Yesterday, despite the fact that I very much felt like having a cup of tea, I couldn’t muster the enery to get up and go to the kitchen until about 4.30. It was just so much easier to stay sitting down. Pottering about and getting a cuppa today seems much more achievable.
Time to relax and get better.