Funny that I should come down with a cold the week I can finally start taking time off of work. But I have fewer than three sick days for the remainder of the year and honestly, I'm not sick enough to stay home.
Why is it that I can feel like utter crap while at work, but the second I get home I feel a million times better? I was falling asleep at my desk yesterday, but after? I went to the gym and had a great work out. Then, I came home and cooked and did dishes and other stuff around the house and didn't sit down until like, 10:00. Couldn't get to bed early, either.
Now here I am today again, dragging ass. I'm sure I'll be a drinking dynamo again tonight. And there's all kinds of stuff to do over the weekend -- cooking, baking, my nephew's football game, the BLB Block Party, football-watching, drinking ... And I'm sure I'll be able to do it all. But I'll be dragging ass again on Monday.
I will never understand the mystery of feeling like ass at work, but feeling much better at home. I suppose it's kind of like you only want what you can't have. I mean, I'd like to just lay down for a few minutes. That's not asking too much, right? But you must wait like, nine hours! No resting. Then all of a sudden, you're home and look! There's the couch. You can rest all you want. Rest? Pffft. I need to go to the gym and run errands. There is baking I must do. All those veggies from the farm in the fridge? They must be made into something. NOW.
Perhaps I can work out a deal with my body. I'll stay home tonight, but I must insist on at least one drink on the deck. That counts as resting, right?