Since when did taking a day off sick become an opportunity to get shit done? After spending most of the Easter weekend coughing uncontrollably and generally feeling a bit rubbish, I came home from work on Tuesday feeling exhausted, achy, and pretty damn ill. I can’t tell you how much I loved my partner, when, seeing I was struggling asked me to wash bottles for the little one then said I should take myself off to bed at 7pm. Feeling no better (worse), when I woke the next morning, I called in sick and stayed in bed until lunch time.
A day at home with my partner around is a rare thing in our house, so despite feeling rotten, my mind turned to all the odd jobs that we never get round to, because they require someone to watch the little on so they can get done. So, wrapped in my favourite blanket and setting up camp on the sofa, I sent my other half off to the tip to get rid of the pile of old flooring that has been sitting in out front garden for the last week or so after we (finally, after a year of winging about the state of it and it driving me nuts) got our living room floor replaced. Our floor may be lovely now, but the piles of rubbish outside our front door was dragging down the nice appearance of our street. That’s not to mention the old sofa and armchair hiding down the alley waiting for a council collection.
While my partner took the little on out to run some errands, I then used the peace and quiet to do a bit of research and purchase a new toilet (exciting stuff) ready for some work we’re having done in the bathroom next month, get a bit of tidying done, and write this blog post. Later that evening, feeling much better, I set to work painting our living room doors.
I’m sure there was a time when being sick meant staying in bed drinking cups of tea and feeling sorry myself, but these days it’s chance to do all of the stuff that I just can’t get round to/can’t be bothered to do when I’m fit and well. This ultimately also results in an overwhelming feeling of guilt that if I can get this done I should in fact be at work, but, I knew when I got up and attempted to shower that it just wasn’t worth trying to go in. I hate calling in sick, and generally have to be feeling at death’s door in order to do so.
I’ve only had one day of annual leave so far this year, and if this week has taught me anything, it’s that it’s worth booking the odd day off regularly, if nothing else just to do the odd bit of housework and generally get my shit together.