Sick Day

In true American fashion, I tried to strike preemptively on a cold that has been threatening to attack for the last forty-eight hours by taking a sick day. While, technically, the only hours that account for sick day status are between eight o’clock in the morning and five o’clock at night, most of my day was dedicated to remedying the scratchy sensation that had been developing in my throat.

These days of excused absence from work due to illness are, strangely, resisted in my world. It’s as if I can’t give in to the idea that I am not able to accomplish something; even if that something is as simple as attendance. In these circumstances, this behavior never seems to work in my favor. I often find myself sitting, or slouching, at my desk wishing I was on a morphine drip, or that I simply would have called in sick. So, today, I thought I would try a different strategy.

Orange slices, known for their Vitamin C power, took to the stage early this morning with an encore performance around noon. Green tea, somehow, replaced my water requirements expected for consumption during a twenty-four hour period in an effort to knock out the oxidants with a one-two punch. Gargling with sea salt became a popular routine, and honey was enjoyed as a coat for the pain.

While these seem to have proved helpful, I must attribute a large portion of my healing to the power of day-time television. The content of these shows not only lulled me in and out of sleep, but provided additional reasons to practice the “I feel good; I feel great; I feel wonderful” mantra. The lessons I learned from Tyra and the inspiration I gained from Vatterott College and Oprah may have been enough to get me back on my feet. While I don’t want to hang the Mission Accomplished banner just yet, I’m hopeful that tomorrow will reveal a victory in the War on Weariness.