Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: ianus

As much as it sucks to stay home and wallow on the couch all day or force yourself to occasionally look at the computer and maybe press a few keys when you’re sick, it is way way way way worse to have to drag yourself out of bed, scan your grey visage in the mirror, groan, pour some orange juice down your throat (which cools the fiery depths temporarily), figure out what to wear that isn’t going to make your bones ache (sweats?), and struggle to midtown where your freelance ME gig awaits, and there are irritating Helvetica issues to be resolved.

Why am I sick, cruel world??? Why? (Imagine pounding fists and flailing appendages, except I’m too weak to do more than sit here and type, and maybe twitch my eye a little.)

Anyway, apparently the way I felt last week was just the start of it. And, yes, okay, I did drink a couple of bottles of wine on Saturday, after a few days of enforced sobriety and “resting,” but there was no way out of that. It was a done deal.

Still, I haven’t had a drop of the hard stuff since Saturday night, and now it’s Tuesday, and if anything, I feel worse. The owner of my gym sent me home yesterday after 17 minutes on the elliptical and a few wobbly bench step-ups. I couldn’t even finish my chicken noodle soup for lunch (by the way, I know there’s a recession on, but one piece of chicken and a handful of tiny, mushy Rice-A-Roni noodles? Shame on you, Amish Market).

But wait a second, all of this makes me think: What if I’m sick from not drinking! Remember that old theory about making your body a toxic vessel from which the germs will flee, like employees from a burning building?

I’ll give it til Friday.

Quick shout-out to: Yogi Honey Lemon Throat Comfort, honey, Cherry Carmex stick (less germy), Kleenex with lotion, that scarf I bought at the Gap that I am now wearing in the office, my unemployment jeans.