Taking a Sick Day

The online weather tells me that it's 43 degrees and overcast out. Looking out the window on the 14th floor, it looks 43 degrees and overcast. Very gray and London-like out there. I haven't been out of my perch on the 14th floor all day. I'm taking a sick day, with all that seems to imply. That's right, the traditional runny nose, accompanied by resident sneezing, coughing, and occasional bouts of fever. Today I finally feel well enough to sit here and write something.

For the past couple of days the being indisposed thing was so indisposed that it got in the way of lucid thought. Headaches. body aches, and a general sense of malaise just seems to get in the way of sitting down to actually create sentences and string them together in a fashion that says anything of value, except "Could you take care of me? I'm sick." Babs, by the way, does an exceptional job of caring for the sick and wounded. Comfort food. Cold wash cloth for the forehead. Stupid TV when you need it. Almost makes one regret getting better and having to return to the working world.

I have some very vivid memories of sick days when I was a child. I work in a public school and it seems that kids take a great many sick days these days. When I was going to school, "back in the day," we only missed school when we were really sick. Those usually involved puking and such. This happened only once or twice a school year. When they did occur, it was a real trauma. OK, there may have been once or twice when I hadn't studied for a test and I suddenly got sick, and my mom let me stay home, but those were a few isolated incidents, honest.

My mom was not much of a soap opera person, so when I stayed home sick, there was a great deal of game show watching. I developed such an attachment to Jeopardy that I even contemplated going on that show and competing. It would be like going back to a warm fuzzy time in the innocence of my childhood when I, as a nerdy child, would see if I could answer the questions that grown adults couldn't. Alas, working for a living and responsibilities got in the way of any appearances on Jeopardy. I couldn't make the auditions where you have to take a test and prove your genuine nerdy credentials. I coulda kicked butt. I swear I coulda.

Everyone who has ever been sick has certain comfort foods that their mom fed them. Then when you get sick as an adult, people inevitably return to their childhood roots and demand those same comfort foods. Babs has an affinity for plain old Campbells Cream of Mushroom Soup or Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Sometimes she will accept Chicken Noodle Soup, but her favorite is the Lipton's variety that comes in a packet you add to boiling water. Campbells doesn't get it for her. I must admit that Lipton's Cup o' Soup is pretty much OK, but basic Campbells Chicken Noodle from the can is my childhood fave. There are those in my family who would have you believe that the only thing I ever ate as a child was Campbells Chicken Noodle Soup and plain hamburgers. I must protest this. Not so! I occasionally had Fish Sticks and Tater Tots. Oh, and ice cream. Had to have the ice cream.

But I digress. We all have foods, stupid mindless TV shows, and rituals that get us through those times when we feel like holy crap. All of these rituals started somewhere back when we were young, small, innocent, and vulnerable. It's just funny how those rituals survive with you into adulthood. Even when you are old enough to be a grandparent. Not that I am a grandparent, mind you, just old enough to be one. Even then, your childhood rituals comfort you, with a few updates here and there. We never had a 37 inch flat screen TV in those days on which to watch that stupid TV. We never had 500 channels to choose from. The experience is still much the same though. Lay on the couch. Read a little. Nap a little. Watch some TV a little. Eat something light. Make it through the day and hope to feel better tomorrow so you can go play with your friends again. Trouble is instead of returning to play with your friends, you have to go back to work.

Maybe I'll be sick again tomorrow. It'd be a real shame to waste all of those sick days I accrue at work on actually being sick. Some of them ought to be used for something good, like a Cubs game. Maybe I could convince someone else to take an accrued "sick day," and I could go out and play with my friends. I hear ballpark beer and peanuts make great comfort food. A wise man once told me, "I should have been born rich instead of so good-looking." Then every day could be like one of those warm, fuzzy sick days.

Now if you'll excuse me, I hear the couch calling to me. All of this exhaustive labor on a sick day has worn me out. Oh Babs! Babs! Could you bring me something to drink? My throat feels a little scratchy. Cough! Cough!