So, I've had some kind of cold/flu from hell situation going on here. It started Monday at work and got progressively worse. Monday I mentioned to my boss that I wasnít feeling well and would like to go home early.
Him: Kimberly I really need you here for the staff meeting. To take the minutes. Canít you just stay for the meeting?
Me: Maybe you could use a tape recorder and I could transcribe the minutes later, you know, maybe when my head wasnít filled with 27 pounds of mucous.
Him: Well the thing with the tape recorder is that these meeting sometimes go on for over two hours. And someone would have to remember to flip the tape. See what Iím getting at?
Yes, I see. If only I didnít need the money, I would have walked out of there with my dignity and never looked back. Sadly, I am in so much debt I will be paying off bills until the year 2067, so I stayed.
At 3:47, my boss says maybe I should go ahead and go home. I normally leave at 4:00. Gee, thanks.
I went home and slept for 17 hours. I woke up feeling worse, as the cold had made its way to my stomach. I called in sick to work. I have three sick days to use before September 6th, so this was perfect timing. Unfortunately I was actually sick. Thatís just not right.
So finally I decided it would be a good and wise thing to go get some kind of over-the-counter remedy and headed out to Price Chopper. I decided on Dayquil, Nyquil, and Theraflu. Before leaving the store I decided I should have a magazine because if I'm going to be sick I should have something entertaining and void of any quality to read. Actually, I would have gotten the magazine anyway because I'm a big magazine whore. So I look at magazines and I grab Glamour because the magazine selection sucked. The only good magazines out right now are bridal magazines and I almost grabbed one of those because it was as wide as three non-bridal magazines. But then I thought, "oh wait! I'm not getting married. That's right. No need to annoy myself with that right now". Okay, I totally didn't think that at all. Anyway, so I'm done and I'm going to pay for my 4 items and leave. Well, I get in line (one of the two lines open) and I'm behind someone with approximately 8,245 items. Do they offer to let obviously ill girl with her four items go first? OH HELL NO! Whatever. So, I'm standing there and the guy behind me says to me, "you look really pale" which is a bad sign cause I look whiter than white when I'm healthy. I thanked him for his observation. So then about five seconds after that I'm thinking, "I really am not feeling good here". About 15 seconds after that revelation, my body decides that the best option would be to projectile vomit. Luckily, there was a trash can close by in the register stand behind me. Still though, it was rather horrifying and a little humiliating. FYI, if you throw up in line at Price Chopper, a new cashier comes out and rings up your purchases so that you can leave sooner rather than later.
I took the Dayquil, followed by the Theraflu, washed down with Nyquil. At that point, I pretty much lost all concept of time and space.
I wonít bore you with all the rest of the gruesome details. For example, how when I went to blow my nose for the 749th time, I somehow missed the Kleenex completely and sent snot all down my arm. Or how I threw up so forcefully that my body decided my nose would be useful as an escape pathway. Or how . . . oh wait, I said I wouldnít bore you. You'll have to forgive me because I'm still feverish and sickly. I hate being sick, I feel like my body is letting me down in yet another way. Plus what with being sick, Iím even more irritable than usual. Hard to believe, I know.
Now I am back at work with my medication, my Kleenex, and one hell of a bad attitude. Should be a fun day.
2002-08-16 at 8:12 a.m.