Sick Day

7:03 Wake up not because the alarm is going off, but because I am drowning in my own mucus.

7:16 After blowing my nose for over ten minutes, decide yet another trip to the doctor is in order. Maybe this one will result in some actual disease killing drugs.

7:17 Call the doctor. Apparently, since last week, the appointment policy has changed. Now, a patient must schedule three weeks in advance. Yeah, with my ability to predict the future, I should have foreseen my raging sinus infection and gotten right on that. My bad. And my fever is under 100 degrees. This is apparently not high enough to qualify me for an “I am about to die” appointment slot. I knew I should have lied when the Huffy Scheduler Lady asked me about my symptons. Get added to the cancellation wait list.

7:22 Offer up prayer: Dear Patron Saint of Sick People, whoever you might be. I’m not Catholic, but I am a Sick Person in Need. Please put in a good word with The Powers That Be and help me get a doctor’s appointment today. I promise to give up my Crocs. For real this time. And next Christmas, when I go to church with my grandma, I’ll make sure to light a Thank You Candle. Respectfully, Me.

7:23 As a backup plan to my heartfelt prayer request, consider going to Urgent Care, but fear that might offend some deityish power. After much weighing of pros (any medical attention and prescription would be welcome at this point, no matter if I irk Catholic Saints) and the cons (Urgent Care is where they could just as easily diagnose you with an upper respiratory infection as cut off your foot and Catholic Hell might be the real Hell and if so, why add to the list of reasons I’m going), I decide to wait and see if I hear from my doctor. Urgent Care is open 24 hours. I can go this afternoon, if the boogers don’t take over my face first.

7:38 Call in sick. There is no way I can be Lawyerly under these circumstances.

7:39 Return to bed and promptly begin to grow Mount St. Used Tissue, which has miraculously sprung up overnight.

7:45 Bionic Kitty keeps jumping on my chest. This means she wants something. My brain works slower when I’m sick, so it takes me a few minutes to realize I’ve not fed her this morning. 

7:47 Walk into dark kitchen with no glasses or contacts. I am essentially blind. As I acquire four new bruises on my shins, acknowledge this is not the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done.


7:49 Decide I am not going to kill my cat. Maiming and torture are better. They last longer. Where can I acquire a one way ticket to Guantanamo?

7:52 Retrieve glasses, wash off grossness from foot, and begin to clean up a Great Sea of Puke. Constant nose blowing slows done what is by now a generally quick and efficient process. The upside is I can’t smell the lingering cat stomach stench.

8:23 Begin search to locate Whatever Bionic Kitty ate. Hopefully it is salvageable.

9:07 Still have not located Bionic Snack. She had to have something, but what?

9:11 Give up. I’ll find it eventually. Return to bed.

9:15 Pounding and shaking of my entire building begin. Crap. I forgot about the Great Garage Renovation Project that’s underway four floors directly under my bed. Wish the Nyquil Fairy would do her work.

9:23 My ears hurt. My throat hurts. My head is going to explode. My brain is pouring out from my nose. Maybe I have Ebola and not a sinus infection? Or maybe this is some new form of germ warfare? You know, where they take out all the lawyers first?

9: 32 The doctor’s office has a cancellation. Bless them. Thank you Patron Saint of Sick People. This miracle will not go unrecognized.

9: 35 Give up on sleep due to construction/constant nose blowing.

9:48 I want my mom.

10:02 Decide Kathie Lee is the second most annoying person on Earth, right after Rachel Ray. Her inane chatter has ruined the Today Show and given me a headache (well, worse than the one I had).

10:18 I’m hungry. Enact Find Food Mode. After an extensive kitchen search, realize the only thing I have which does not require cooking and/or use of utensils is candy corn. Hello, Breakfast.

10:39 Go to take shower. Cleanliness is a courtesy I am still able to extend to my doctor. It’s in my best interest. Think she will appreciate it and perhaps be more likely to prescribe a Super Antibiotic to knock out this Mucus Death.  

10:40 Discover what Bionic Kitty ate. All my Paul Mitchell has gone to cat stomach heaven.

10:41 Decide to scrap shower. I’m sick. The doctor will just have understand. I’m not above begging for drugs.

10:42 It feels like something from Aliens is trying to erupt from my ear canal. Curl up in a ball of misery. After 30 seconds of feeling sorry for myself, decide blame is needed. Decide eCrush Boy is on my You Suck So Bad List until further notice.

11:02 Bed until Doctor Time.


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