Sick Time

I have a cold. Nothing horrible - just enough to make me feel crappy. This morning I went into the bedroom to try and sleep some of it off but I couldn't sleep - instead I laid in bed, doing nothing. And, I realized how long it's been since I've taken a sick day - an honest-to-goodness, sit around, watch TV, read, let your body recover from the funk it's in, day.

When my brother and I were in elementary school, sick days were spent at my grandparents' house. They'd set us up on the couch, provide us with plenty of Red Zinger tea, toast made from homemade bread, potato soup and white noodles (my grandmother's homemade white cheddar mac and cheese). The television was ours to commandeer for the day and we got our fill of 'I Love Lucy' or 'The Andy Griffith Show'.

Somehow over the course of the next 25 years, sick days became a thing of the past. For the past 12 years any time out of the office was spent tethered to my blackberry or laptop - naps were limited to an hour or two and, the closest I came to rest and relaxation was spending my day in my pajamas or typing on my laptop, propped up on pillows in my bed.

Now that I'm self-employed and have a 2-year-old, I feel compelled to take advantage of every single minute of time. My to-do lists are pages long, I feel as though I'm never accomplishing everything I should be and I am perpetually trying to squeeze a just one more thing into an already overcrowded day.

Today is no exception. Today was supposed to be my day to get things done. My husband is watching our son all day, the office is mine to work in and I'd lined up a rigorous list of tasks to complete in record time. So far, I haven't accomplished anything on my list.

Part of me thinks I'm wasting the day away; part of me thinks it's the universe's way to telling me to slow the eff down.

I'm planning on spending part of my afternoon making homemade split pea soup. Perhaps once I do, I can sit on the couch with a big bowl of that, watch some crappy TV and enjoy some real sick time.