Thursday, February 17, 2011

I should just start wearing my running spandies everywhere

I've been pretty sick this week. In fact, I can't remember the last time I was this sick. Sure, I'll get a cold every now and then, but this week I got knocked on my ass, like an overly excited child at a questionably dangerous petting zoo.

Kangaroo Jack Gif - Kangaroo Jack

My mom is convinced I have the flu. She's a nurse, so I trust her medical judgment. She's also the nurse however, who told me that there was nothing you could do for a broken thumb, so there really wasn't a point in going to the doctor. And the nurse who fainted in the doctor's office that time I broke my wrist and she took me to get it set. And the nurse who refused to go get stitches when she fell during one of our trail runs, so she's left with a big scar on her knee today. And the nurse who hates blood, which was evident when my brother and I accidentally chopped his pointer finger off. Oh, kids.

One of my best friends' father is a doctor and she herself has not been to a doctor in probably 20 years. We both grew up laughing over our parents insistence that, "you're fine. Walk it off." I assume when the time comes I will follow the same parenting model that I grew up with from my own parents and grandparents. "It's a nice day, get the hell out and play." "You're fine." "Keep squirming and I'll chop you're whole goddamn foot off."

I finally succumbed to my fever yesterday and spent the day working from my bed. This was a move that I thought would drive me insane, but I loved it. The hours flew by. I hadn't been that relaxed in a long time. It might have been a little bit nicer if I wasn't feeling like giant bag of hot, clammy germs, but that's besides the point.

So when I woke up today, I was determined to head back to the office. I gave my body a day of necessary rest. Time to stop dicking around, body. Pull your shit together. I miss my running. I need to get back in the game. So I got ready, walked downstairs and found ... a dirty kitchen. Crumbs on the floor and counter. Opened mail scattered around the table. Dirty dishes in the sink. Gah knows how much I hate food garbage sticking to my sink. Gah knows. Savasaanaaaaa. It's okay. Find my center. I'll deal with it later. I flipped on the coffee maker, poured myself a bowl of raisin bran and headed into the family room to catch a few minutes of the news and found ... cotton fluff scattered all over the room from a stuffed animal the dog had apparently disembowled earlier this morning. More opened mail scattered around the room. Sand tracked in from boots all over the hardwood floor. A few dirty socks in the middle of the room. Dog hair ... everywhere. Savasana. Savasanaaaaaaaaa. Savasana savasana savasana.

I hurried back into the kitchen and went on a cleaning spree. Because you know what's awesome to do when you're just barely coming out of your NyQuil coma? Cleaning. I scooped up the cotton, straightened up pillows, emptied the sink. I grabbed the thermometer I had been using for the past few days from the table next to the couch and pondered what to do with it. I shouldn't just put it away. It had just been in my sick mouth. But I don't have any alcohol to clean it with. But I do have ... alcohol. I stood in front of the liquor cabinet pondering which would be more effective for cleaning germs: Mount Gay or perhaps some Kettle One? I'm guessing the vodka because that looks more like sterilizing alcohol, right? Am I being resourceful right now or acting completely dysfunctional? Sterilizing a thermometer in a cocktail? Is my judgment still being clouded by NyQuil? Ugh, something tells me this is not something a highly-functioning adult would do. Or is it? I put the thermometer down and decided to figure it out when I get home.

When I did finally make it to the office, I was greeted happily by all of my office mates. I should explain that none of these people work with me, we just share a common office. Most of them have no idea what I do. All of them are men. And my relationship with them? Is hilarious. "Buenos dias, sunshine! We missed you yesterday. There was no sun shining for us here." "Morning, runner girl. Too sick to run today? Getting lazy on us?" "Bridget, you stop coughing near me, you hear me? Don't even think about getting me sick. Just get away from me." "Ay, you're back today! Did you miss me?"

I love working with these characters. They pamper me and make fun of me and always brighten my day. If you think chivalry is dead, I invite you to show up at the microwave line at lunch time. I'm sure the fact that I occasionally show up for work in my spandex running pants has nothing to do with this.

So ya, back in action today. Still slightly germy so keep your distance. Gah knows I have an affinity for licking faces and we wouldn't want you to get sick too now would we? Unless face licking is your thing too, in which case, rock on. I'm coming for you, Mary.


amanda said...

That's funny about your mom. My mom used to say EVERYTHING was 'just allergies'. It didn't matter what it was, it was somehow related to my allergies.

Becky Mochaface said...

Sometimes I love being a girl.

Carlee said...

Your mom sounds like me, however these are the reasons I went into teaching not nurse. Wish I had know about her earlier!


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