It’s 2:30pm on Friday afternoon. I have just come home from work early. My body is still running at a ridiculous temperature. It made no sense to sit at my desk any longer, potentially exposing co-workers to whatever bug I seem to be carrying.
London was an adventure yesterday. I woke up with a raging temperature at about 4am (after going to bed at 9 the night before). I couldn’t call in sick because others were relying on me, so slept fitfully until 5:30, after which I got up and downed two nurofen (ibuprofen), and two paracetamol. After half an hour I felt vaguely ok, although a bit deaf. Ibuprofen does that to me - it takes pain away, but makes me feel like my head is full of cotton wool.
I somehow made it through the day on client-site in London, and got home at about 8:30pm. As is usual, I started washing up the moment I walked in the door, and got told off for it - so I stopped. This morning - surprise, surprise - none of the washing up had happened, so I set about clearing it before leaving the house for work.
I get in again half an hour ago, and guess what. Sink is full again, and dirty plates, mugs, and dishes are stacked everywhere around it. I think the rest of the family has gone shopping (it’s half term).
I just finished washing up before writing this. My entire life seems to revolve around washing up. It’s the first thing I do in the morning, the first thing I do when I get home from work, and the last thing I do at night. It drives me NUTS.
I shouldn’t really have been at work over the last couple of days. There is an unwritten rule that if you’re sick you should stay away - because you will make others sick. That rule is “unwritten” on purpose - because there are exceptions to it. Apollo astronauts threw up all over the capsule - they didn’t get to stay in bed though.
I’m hoping against hope that I’ll get a chance to relax this weekend. The grass needs cutting, the hedge at the front of the house needs cutting, and all of the school clothes will probably need to be washed. I’ll also have to go and buy food to make packed lunches next week, and if previous weekends are anything to go by, I’ll have to buy, and prepare all food to feed everybody throughout the weekend. And then wash it all up.
I need a vacation from life as I know it.
And a pizza.