I’m still sick, so I’m mostly limping along, trying to get work done so I can take off a bunch of days, and trying not to think about everything I need to do around the house, because I just have no energy to tackle any of it yet. The cats still need that teeth cleaning. Seriously.
Today I just crashed. I have a lot of work to do, not the least of which is my self-appraisal annual review thing, which is very late already, so hopefully promptness is not a consideration for raises. I abandoned everything early this afternoon and came home and napped. I’m convinced that cold medicine is trickery foisted on an unsuspecting sickly public. We’re willing to believe anything, so we hand over our $8 for shiny, colorful pills that do nothing.
I left for work this morning with soaking wet hair, which probably didn’t help. It was 31 degrees outside and everything was covered in a thin layer of frost. I regretted getting out of my warm, comfortable bed the minute I stepped outside. My brain is foggy and I’m feeling behind. I’ve already started getting Christmas packages and yet I haven’t shopped for anyone yet. I haven’t even thought about what I might shop for.
I dream about taking a triple vacation: a week to get caught up at home, a week to get caught up at work, and then a week to recover from it all. Tom Peters thinks that if you tell him what you spent your time on today, he can tell you what you care about. But I don’t know. I think that only works if you actually have time to think about organizing your time, if you can get to a place of being proactive rather than reactive, if you have an administrative assistant to schedule your meetings and register your car. I’m driving around with expired tags and I napped all day. But I care more about complying with vehicle registration than having a cold.
Maybe that was a bad example. Maybe I should take another nap.