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On an absolute scale of human suffering I'm doing pretty well--I have a warm place to live, cupboards full of food, and a job to go back to next week. Nevertheless, I'm sick and miserable about it.
I went to work thinking I would get a half-day in, and almost the first thing the general manager says is, "You look sick". "I am sick," I said. "So why are you here?" "It's my department." He laughed.
We actually have policy against sick people in the kitchen, but my nose wasn't dripping, I wasn't coughing (yet), and I didn't seem to be running a fever so I figured I could get by with mixing stuff up and putting them in the oven. After conferring with my assistant manager with what needed to be done the next couple of days I started to make some cake. I'd been at this for a half-hour when my a.m. turned to me and said, "Nancy, I think you need to go home now." I have no idea what triggered that statement, though I suppose the fact that it was taking me over a half hour to make cake might have had something to do with it. Nevertheless, my a.m. is worth her weight in saffron and when she takes an action like that it is clearly time to hand over the con and go home.
I spent the rest of the day trying to deal with my symptoms. A long bath helped my breathing for awhile, but then a cough developed and nothing seemed to help that. It is one of those dry coughs whose only purpose in life seems to be to dislodge one's trachea--very annoying.
I woke up this morning with pretty much the same symptoms as I went to bed with. My voice has gotten worse, my head is still stuffed up and I still feel lethargic. I'm hoping that I start the upswing today; I REALLY REALLY have to finish my move and being sick is not part of the plan.
I went to work thinking I would get a half-day in, and almost the first thing the general manager says is, "You look sick". "I am sick," I said. "So why are you here?" "It's my department." He laughed.
We actually have policy against sick people in the kitchen, but my nose wasn't dripping, I wasn't coughing (yet), and I didn't seem to be running a fever so I figured I could get by with mixing stuff up and putting them in the oven. After conferring with my assistant manager with what needed to be done the next couple of days I started to make some cake. I'd been at this for a half-hour when my a.m. turned to me and said, "Nancy, I think you need to go home now." I have no idea what triggered that statement, though I suppose the fact that it was taking me over a half hour to make cake might have had something to do with it. Nevertheless, my a.m. is worth her weight in saffron and when she takes an action like that it is clearly time to hand over the con and go home.
I spent the rest of the day trying to deal with my symptoms. A long bath helped my breathing for awhile, but then a cough developed and nothing seemed to help that. It is one of those dry coughs whose only purpose in life seems to be to dislodge one's trachea--very annoying.
I woke up this morning with pretty much the same symptoms as I went to bed with. My voice has gotten worse, my head is still stuffed up and I still feel lethargic. I'm hoping that I start the upswing today; I REALLY REALLY have to finish my move and being sick is not part of the plan.
