So sick of being sick

I'm sure all I have to do is take a sip of water and that itch in my throat will go away immediately, I thought hopefully. I JUST got over being sick; there's no way I'm coming down with something AGAIN.

It's times like these that I hate living on an island with 8.2 million other people. I blame the constant close contact with strangers that is impossible to escape. There's always some guy hacking next to you while you're trying to find a little more elbow room to get away from him on the subway or a teenager turning toward you to sneeze at the exact moment you're trying to pass her on the sidewalk.

So I felt like I was coming down with something on Saturday (don't you hate that feeling?) that became a full-blown cold on Sunday. So I had to skip my football game and take it easy with the hubby, which was a good idea because while I still felt sick, couldn't taste or smell anything, and was coughing every few seconds, the misery was manageable on Monday and Tuesday.

But then I had to go and overexert myself with a 90-minute, one-on-one rehearsal with the director of the play that I'm in before rushing to get to my basketball game on time. Toward the end of the game, I was waving off my teammates asking me if I wanted to come off the bench because I knew I was done. My body was telling me loud and clear that this wasn't one of those times that you feel better once you've exercised.

So even after a hot bath and choking down a horrible mug of TheraFlu, I stayed in my bed from Wednesday night until Friday morning, only getting out of bed to visit the restroom and get another bowl of yogurt. But that day of rest was exactly what I needed because although I still felt crappy on Friday, it wasn't enough to skip another day of work. Although a four-day weekend of rest and relaxation was pretty tempting.

Total waste of a beautiful day

The TV tray is set up next to the couch holding up a box of tissues, a tall glass of apple juice, and dishes devoid of anything but dried Chinese food. Used tissues litter the floor alongside furry blue socks and the TV is set to "Family Feud."

It's 60-plus degrees outside and I'm stuck at home with a nasty cold with several more hours to wait before I have someone to be home with me and get me more juice and rub my pounding head. Blech. I hate being sick. There's so much to do around the house and even though I had high hopes for having some time to get some housework done today, there's no so much motivation to get anything done that can't be done from this couch (hence this blog post from the laptop resting over my blanket).

Sure, I cleaned out my e-mails' inboxes, searched for available Manhattan apartments, trolled around Facebook and LinkedIn and caught up with some reading, but when the husband gets home and asks me what I did all day, I'll have nothing to show for it. That's OK with me, though. Give me a break - I'm sick!

Rested for the first time in awhile

It's Saturday morning... and I'm home.

It's 9:45 a.m. and I just rolled out of bed after waking up on my own. And I don't have to go to work today or tomorrow.

This may sound like a typical weekend for many people, but for the past two years, it hasn't been for me. Since January, 2008, I've had to try to go to bed early every Friday night in order to wake up at 4:35 a.m. every Saturday morning. By the time I got off work at noon or later, I'd crash in bed until around 4 or 5 p.m., then wake up even more tired than when I went to sleep. This, unfortunately, made for some cranky Saturday evenings.

But now I feel rested, happy, and looking forward to an entire day that I can fill with whatever I want.

Now if only I knew what that should be! Nevertheless... goodbye coffee shop job forever!