Sick days: so overrated.

'member how I was saying on Thursday that I wasn't feeling the Mae West? Well, on Satuday morning, I went from feeling a bit *pluh* to having a full-blown man flu [not just a cold, you see] with a large dollop of sinusitus thrown in for good measure. I spent the entire weekend dragging myself between my bed and the couch and feeling thoroughly exhausted at the exertion, while downing max strength Lemsip and Rubex like they were going out of fashion. Still, it was freezing and wet and really stormy out so it was a bit of an indoorsy/TV weekend anyways, and at least Himself was there to keep me company and mind me and pretend that my pyjamas/dressing gown/deathly pallor look was really a winning combination. So I guess it could've been worse.

And then on Monday morning, it was worse.

I woke up with a pounding soreness in my sinuses and a horrible groggy feeling all over. I made it about as far as the bedroom door before I had to crawl back into bed and lie down. So, I rang in sick to work. And I gotta tell ya: sick days are seriously overrated. I guess if you're the type of person who "pulls sickies" to go shoe shopping as opposed to using your sick days when you're actually ill, then you'll think I'm a crazy person for saying that. But I was bored out of my head all day. I couldn't sleep so I got up, and I think that was my first big mistake. I couldn't watch TV or listen to the radio because they were giving me a headache, and I couldn't read because there isn't a book, newspaper or trashy magazine in the house that I haven't already read forty times. And as if the stultifying boredom wasn't awful enough, I had to brew my own Lemsip! Anytime I'd been off work sick in the past, I was living at home, so there was always someone to provide me with Lemsip or a bit of toast or the current issue of In Style on demand. And there was always someone to talk to; sure even the dog and the fish were good for a chat if you were feverish enough. So there is a definite downside to having your own place that no-one ever talks about. Oh sure, you can come and go as you please and nobody asks where you're going or what time you'll be home at, but the trade-off is that there is no-one to look after you if you're sick.

And if there's one thing worse than being on your own when you're absolutely dying and feeling totally miserable, it's having it happen to you two flippin' days in a row. That's right, I was off today as well. I cannot buh-lieve how much I want to go to work tomorrow!

P.S. The party on Friday night was pretty good - the tan, nails, and outfit all came together which is always nice and I was very well behaved; left at 1am and had no hangover on Saturday morning [so I was struck down with sickness in punishment for not drinking enough, it seems. Huh.]