The Five Stages of Sick
A post brought to you by a weekend. Of being sick.
Spend Friday night convinced you’re not really getting sick. Go to the gym in a slightly feverish panic. Run around town doing errands (the more things you touch with your infected body, the better). Frantically clean and organize the house.
(Mentally) swear at your coworkers for showing up sick all week. Finish your laundry and (verbally) (and delusionally) swear at your socks for not matching. Yell, “Why me?” Better yet, call your mom and yell, “Why me?” Because misery loves company.
Promise you’ll start taking your vitamins every day. And will wash your hands regularly. And will strictly adhere to the five-second rule.
Alternate between hiding under the covers while groaning in pain and wandering around the house while moaning in misery. (Pretty sure my neighbors now think my house is haunted.)
Put your jammies on, chug seasonal tea and spicy eggy soup, make some minimal-effort-involved treats and spend the rest of the weekend alternating between napping and a Redbox-movie marathon.
How do you handle being sick?