On another note, MOM-You could always start making sweaters of Alpaca, or sell Alpaca droppings to farms for fertilizer. That's what the Alpaca farm near Pawtucaway does. Their sign advertised the Alpaca fertilizer as "Paca Poo". Made me smile every time.
So. How is everybody? Comfy? Cozy? Good.
I, myself, (can any one of you englishy types tell me why anyone would say that in a sentence? Why acknowledge yourself twice to your audience? For that matter, why do people say do do? Isn't it an unnecessary repetition and one that more often than not makes your audience snicker? What about had had. Is that one ever reasonable? Just asking.) am suffering from what we scientisty types like to call the "Really? Right now?" illness. Also known as the common cold. Because nothing is more inconvenient that a sickness that is debilitating enough to make work miserable but not debilitating enough to warrant a day off.
This particular mini-beast of an illness has been hanging around since Sunday. It reared it's admittedly small head in the form of fatigue. Lucky for it and unlucky for me, it has never come out all at once in full Cold force. It's just given me little tastes of each stage so that I have not been sick enough in the last 4 days to not work. Monday, it was sore throat and more fatigue. Tuesday it was the sniffles and a sore throat. Today it's the sniffles and fatigue with a little bit of chesty low voice-ness to go along (honestly, it's the low voice that I love the most. There is nothing more empowering than being able to sing an octave lower than your normal register). But still not enough to put me out of commission.
Then there is the guilt.
Remember the time when you were a kid and didn't mind getting sick because it meant you got to miss school and be babied all day? Remember how in college you felt free to take "sick days" all the time because it didn't effect anyone else? Well, now comes the time when being sick is not only impossible to hide, but it has a big impact on your work and those working with you. Jess, my trusty companion through these past weeks, knew I was feeling unwell immediately. She's so sharp. Like an attendant mother, that one. But I felt like I was whining every time I mentioned how I needed to go to bed early or take a nap or not drive or this or that.
I don't like having to admit to people that I feel unwell. When they ask, because by now it has filtered to all of the 6 other people who live here now, I hate telling them that I haven't been around because I have been trying to sleep off a cold.
Here is why I feel this way: When I was a kid, it didn't matter that I might not have been as sick as I said. Mom or Dad would take care of me and trust that I was sick enough to miss school. When I was in college, it didn't matter if I was feeling like I was going to die or if I only had a stuffy nose. I could do what I wanted and no one had to know or care. Now, I feel like every person is judging me when I tell them I'm sick. I imagine these thoughts going through their heads:
"She's not that sick. Why is she acting all sick anyway?"
"She just wants attention."
And so forth.
I know this is all in my head. In fact, the fact that I have a cold is probably of such little consequence in this small community that right after they inquire about my wellness, the others forget what they even just asked me or what my answer was. This is fine with me. I liked it better in college when I could baby myself and not wonder if other people think I am making it outto be worse than it is. In fact, I'd rather people not asked me at all how I felt. That way I wouldn't feel like such a baby when I say, "A little better and a little worse". Because that's how this cold is beating me. "Here, let me take away this symptom and replace it with another," it says. "In this way, you will never be sick enough to take a whole day off to sleep and let your body get rid of me. Mwhahahahahah!"
That's what this silly little cold says to me every day. And then I wonder...
...doesn't that make me mad (hatter-like, not the wrath kind)?