It had to happen sooner or later. It makes me so frustrated. I just hate it.
I should have recognized the symptoms over the weekend. Something just didn’t feel right, like I’d worked out too hard at the gym. Except that I hadn’t been to the gym in the past few days.
Then it hit with a vengeance. The tickle in the throat, the sudden chills. By dinner time it was a full-on attack, with my throat burning and my entire body aching.
What’s up? All through the holidays I tried to eat right, exercise and get enough sleep. Especially with the added stress of job hunting.
I’m pretty sure it was the last holiday party that got me. Lots of folks in close quarters. Especially the “close talker” – you know, the kind that invades your personal space. This one cornered me with nowhere to run. I tried to back away, but there was no room. Trapped! So close that I could feel his breath as he spoke. Ick. I would have offered him a Tic-Tac if I’d had one. Or maybe I should have sprayed a disinfectant to kill any potential germs.
And now I’m sick. Mr. In-Your-Face is just fine I’m sure, and probably close-talking someone at his office right this second.
I allowed myself to sleep a bit late this morning. When I finally had the strength to get out of bed, I grabbed the phone to call in sick. Funny thing, how do you call in sick when you’re laid off?
It seems cruel to be reminded of the lack of work when you’re sick. Isn’t there a hotline like 1-800-IAM SICK, or something? Anyone I could call to let someone know? There’s got to be someone who could listen to my hoarse voice and cough, someone to justify the sick day. Hubby doesn’t want to get near me for fear he’ll catch the dreaded crud that I’ve got. I don’t blame him.
The dog tries to console me as I drag myself to the couch. She brings me a squeaky toy, hoping that a quick game of toss will make me feel better. I accept the slobbery toy, figuring her germs might somehow be a cure for the crud. Unfortunately, the crud stays and I have a hand full of slobber. Her attention is nice, but she doesn’t understand why I’m upset. No one to call, no one at work wondering if I’m really sick or wondering if I’m able to get some work done as I lay on the couch.
Sigh. Sick with the crud and no one cares. Not entirely true; Hubby cares and so does the dog, but I’m talking about the stressful kind of caring that comes with worrying about work while you’re sick. Humph. I can’t even enjoy the sick day since there’s nothing to worry about.
Do you suppose the good people at Career Builder or Monster want to know if I’m sick? They’re probably wondering why I haven’t been online to look for new opportunities.
Even Facebook isn’t interesting today. Those who are working don’t want to hear about my sore throat or runny nose or that I’m still in my p.j.’s. They would make all sorts of comments about how nice it must be not having to worry about work. If only they knew.
Whine, whine, whine. I guess that’s what I’ll do today. Just in case you were wondering, I did call someone. Our local pizza delivery guy. At least he knows I’m sick and he offered to bring me a pizza for only $10.99.
Pizza and whine. It’s a good day to be sick.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved
Like Tami, I was terminated once (By my best friend, BTW – he is now on the board of the agency I lead, so I got him back – ha!), but you don’t have to be unemployed to learn something from this book. 
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