The trouble with being sick
The trouble with being sick is that you can’t get anything done.
You can’t go outside. (It’s far too cold.) You can’t go out to eat. (Who knows how it’ll affect your stomach?) You can’t make friends at a bar. (Alcohol and DayQuil certainly don’t mix.)
It’s too tiring to even think about going gallery hopping or shopping in SoHo. It hurts enough to even stand up off the couch, so going to the gym is out of the question. Which of course just leaves you stuck at home. This can be kind of a drag when there’s no daytime TV like The Price is Right or Days of our Lives to kick it old school.
Maybe (like me) you’ve got a cat around for company. You might think that’s a perk. But if you’re allergic to cats (like me), having a feline attempt to sit on your face while you attempt to watch “The Good Place” is likely not what the doctor ordered.
You might think, “Ah, well this sounds like the perfect time to catch up on those 900 unread emails in your inbox.” And trust me, I’d tend to agree with you. But the trouble with those really bad bouts of illness is that they also tend to get inside your head and make it pretty hard to focus on anything for too long.
Speaking of which, I wonder what time the laundry place closes today.
Not that I’ll actually manage to make it down 4 flights of stairs and around the block with my 20-pound laundry bag in my condition. It’s just that knowing when it closes will at least give me something to wonder about doing for the next 2–3 hours. Then when they finally do close, I can chastise myself for the rest of the weekend for not taking my laundry there earlier.
You might say, “Just be normal and watch Netflix.” I’m telling you, I tried. And you’ll be pleased to hear that I finally watched Black Panther. And yes, it was pretty good. Lots of girl power and all. And by the way, yes I’ve already seen The Incredibles or I’d watch that next. Same with the Fyre Documentaries. What else have you got?
I think that girl through the window across the way is Marie Kondo-ing her apartment. I see bags and bags and bags. One of them is a MUJI shopping bag. I wonder if I should swing by the Housing Works tomorrow to see if I can pick up some cheap pillows or something.
Speaking of which, tidying is another option of a thing I could do. Except for that I foolishly decided to take on that project last weekend. I’m sure Marie might say there’s always more anti-joy to remove from the apartment, but in my delirium you never can be too sure that I’ll be throwing away the right things. Leave it to me to toss those crystal candlestick holders we received for our wedding that we haven’t used yet.
I mean, what? That was clearly a joke. Of course we use them. Every weekend.
So here we are, stuck at home on a three-day weekend with barely enough remaining cognitive ability to even finish this blog post. Glad to see I’m putting my writing chops to good use today. Maybe this blog is my online lifeline to the outside world. Maybe…I’m still dreaming and I haven’t even woken up at all yet. (You know that NyQuil can be pretty trippy stuff.)
The trouble with being sick is that you can’t get anything done. And I’ll be sure to remind myself of this next year to make sure I remember to get my flu shot.
Originally published at Dry Erase.
