I am terrible at being sick. Which I supposed is a far better problem than being terrible at life, right? But truly, I have a hard time admitting that I am sick ( or injured, or tired, or you know just had surgery) let alone ‘taking it easy’. After all, I am the girl who deplanes from 20 hours of travel, sick, from Africa and still manages to make a dessert and attend a cookout 2 hours later and who had her wisdom teeth pulled without meds so she could finish the workday and have frozen yogurt with friends. I don’t do ‘rest’. That being said I got completely derailed with some version of the plague the last two weeks and it knocked me on my butt.
Since I don’t ‘do’ sick this also means I never actually take medicine so when I do I’m basically a nut. This was evidenced when day two of illness my best friend calls and two minutes in he asks if I’ve been drinking. Why yes, I had, shots of coffee syrup to be exact. Which by the way does not taste like any cherries I’ve ever eaten! Nice trick, liars.
Here’s what’s great about when I’m sick though – I’m a complete and total disaster. Since I am pretty much never a mess normally, my friends thoroughly enjoy these times. As one of my closest girlfriends laughingly said to me a few weeks ago, ‘I mean sometimes I like to rejoice in your failings just a little because they never really happen’. While that’s not totally true (and she really does love me) I tend to be the girl with the crazy long to do list that I can’t sleep before completing. Until I get sick and become my own alter ego.
This week while sick (and medicated):
– I turned into my mother and bought generic cough medicine. This does not really even save you that much money but apparently it’s the principle of sticking it to the creator and their name brand or something and try though I might to buck the Christensen system, I’m just too thrifty at heart.
– I bought myself 2 route 44’s am sonic happy house in an attempt to not feel so tired and groggy. As it turns out this just results in having to use every public restroom in the city of Tampa. So, 88 ounces is not a wise choice.
– I watched 2 entire seasons of Pretty Little Liars on Netflix. Since I didn’t take a single day off work this tells you exactly how I spent my evenings. – I scolded myself for watching more netflix in a week the I normally watch in a year and tried to make myself read
– 30 minutes later I realized I had read the same page 30 times and I still wasn’t sure what it said. – I stepped barefoot in dog poop. I actually knew there was poop in that spot (there always is) and still was surprised when I felt my foot squish in. Yep, that happened.
– a gal at work gave me a bottle of dishwashing soap. While in my couch syrup induced haze I assumed you put this in the dishwasher. Five minutes later it bubbled out of the dishwasher. I assumed the dishwasher was broken. Being the genius I was this week, I did it again just to insure it was truly broken. Yep, bubbles. Whined to my friends I need a new dishwasher before deciding to try the other soap. No bubbles. Two days later with a friend over I read the bottle and realize I filled my dishwasher with dish soap, not dishwasher soap. Son of a gun.
– I went to work and realized I left my work laptop at home (which is 20 minutes away) so I spent all day trying to work on my little ipad. Boo. Fail.
– I overslept, twice! For the first time since literally middle school I overslept twice and I had to run around like a chicken with it’s head cut off to be on time for work. Mercy.
So basically it’s a wonderful I survived (and that all the people around me seem to be somewhat unmarred by the experience. And sometimes you just have to sit back and laugh at your own failings because life goes on.