Calling in sick

Reading: Nine Lives by William Dalrymple
Listening to: "Timeless" by The Airborne Toxic Event
Outside: The wind. It bites.


Well, this cold is kicking my ass. Not only the cold outside. Mainly, the cold that's living in me right now.

Whatever variant of human rhinovirus I have... it's doing its job right now. Coursing its way through my veins, numbing my nerves and synapses, slowing things down, turning me into a dim-witted, slightly crazed, diseased creature as I plod along through my weekend.


I have thought of calling in sick. Saying a swift, but slightly weak No to my To Do list.

But I just can't.

So these are some of the things I've done, through achy muscles and low, animal-like moans I've made without being aware of it... these are some of my accomplishments this weekend:

- Got up and got dressed. That in itself is, you know, amazing.

- Dabbed on some makeup. I thought, if I put enough on, maybe it will hide the fact that my face wants to fall off.

 

- Got my tax forms prepared to do my US tax return. Briefly stressed because this time, for the first time ever, I must choose to tick either the "Married, Separate" or "Married, Joint" box. Oh the humanity! If there was yet another way for the IRS to turn my life into a living hell, this is it. (Oh yeah, she thinks to herself, let's read through two hundred and thirty pages of practically Latin lawyer-speak instructions and then cross-check and triple-cross check references on twelve different Google search pages. Just to try to begin to understand it. Yes, that sounds like fun.) Flustered fluttering of papers and choice words ensued.

- Wrote my 5,000 words yesterday.

- Wrote my 5,000 words today. (Now at just under 59,000 words for the first draft of my latest literary novel! Holla! Only 20,000 words to go! I am genuinely excited about this. Stuff like this somehow always cuts through a cold-induced malaise.)

- Stared at QueryTracker for a while, despite not noticing any changes on my agent query list. It's like staring into a desert, hoping for a mirage. And oh, how I love it.

- Queried a couple literary agents, whispering silent things to them that maybe they can hear.

- Attended a fabulous, sparkling and emotional 60th Birthday/35 Years in Business Party for my better half's uncle, surrounded by a ballroom-full of some of his closest friends, colleagues and family. It was a beautiful afternoon.

- Shook the house with increasingly violent sneezes.

- Ate some pizza.

- Checked my email. Many, many times.

- Drank some water.

- Took some Ibuprofin.

- Painted my nails. I know. The effort is monumental.


And so. This just goes to show, living in my own little bubble of cold symptoms, I must still live. I do not call call in sick. As much as I think I might want to.


My conversation with Cold:

        "Cold," I say, "right now you are kicking my ass. But soon, very soon, I will be kicking your ass."

       Cold, standing stunned, makes pathetic fish-pops of air, doesn't even know what to say. It's speechless.

Please excuse me as I must now wander downstairs and search for ice cream. And then pass out on the couch.

Happy Sunday, everyone!