Sicky Sue
So I haven't blogged in a couple days. I've been busy at work and for the past two days, I've been a little under the weather. (I love that phrase - it makes no sense - although I do sort of feel trapped under a giant headache cloud right now). I'd tell you guys what I've been up to at work, but as you know, I worry about writing anything detailed about work on my blog. So I can't tell you about the funny meeting I had on Tuesday (where we discussed curse words and nudity on TV and how the "viewer discretion is advised" warning actually makes shows sound more appealing) or the great show we acquired that starts airing in January (hint: it rhymes with the word Bustle). Here's what I can tell you - I don't feel so good. And I am not a good sick patient.
I think I blame my walk to work yesterday. Well, to be fair, I did wake up a bit phlegmy, but my walk to work definitely exacerbated the situation. My face basically froze off and by the time I got to work, I was coughing. Every single time I get a cough, I try to reassure myself that a cough doesn't always turn into a cold. And then it always does. I called my Mom on the phone and told her that I felt like I was getting a cold. She said "stay away from milk, all dairy products, and OJ" (because they've been known to make more phlegm) and as these words came out of her mouth, I realized I was literally caught red-handed. I promptly put down my cup of milky coffee and my egg & cheese sandwich. Oops. So I kicked into high remedy gear - water, tea, vitamins, echinacea, protein, antibacterial wipes, cold-eeze - anything I could get my hands on. As the day went on, I felt my cough subsiding. But because I'm a paranoid, germaphobic freak, I knew I'd have to continue to fight the sick, and this fight - I actually think it all comes down to personal karma.
I've read articles that claim that you can't catch a cold from another person or from being outside in cold weather. I don't really believe either (even though one time, I made out with Hipster John and the next day he had a cold and I never got one). I'm quite vigilant about trying to avoid getting sick - I wash my hands all the time, I don't let anyone share my drinks (unless you're related to me or dating me) and I try to get a lot of sleep so my immune system is well rested. I stay away from people who are sick - I try to be nice and subtle about it - i.e. "stay away from me, you're sick". And I try to eat healthy and exercise - but here's where the self-karma part comes in. Last night, I forced myself to go to the gym, not really because I know that exercise is good for me and maybe it would help to fight off sickness, but mainly because I view going to the gym as a good deed, a self-mitzvah, so that whoever is up there watching (God, Yahweh, George Burns, whatever you want to call him) is like, "Hey, that Susan is going to the gym even though she had a long day at work and it's 19 degrees, give that cold we were going to give her to someone else." I know that is silly, but that's kind of how I think. How else would you explain the fact that I stayed on the elliptical for 75 minutes last night?! Normally after half an hour, I'm tired and a bit bored and ready to stop. But last night, I was like an elliptical robot. I felt like I could have stayed on forever - running like the wind.
EDITOR'S NOTE: It's at this juncture that I should admit that there was another factor leading me to stay on the elliptical, in addition to trying to heal myself via gym karma - 'N Sync. Roll your eyes, judge me, say whatever you want, it's undeniable - "Tearin' Up My Heart" & "I Want You Back" - fucking perfect work out music (Shout out to Dude for the good recommendation).
I was really proud of myself for working out like a maniac. I went home and had some Moo Shoo Chicken - making sure that whoever was watching me to determine if I'll get sick (Adonai, Moses, Nat King Cole) could see that I was eating protein and vegetables like a good girl. I drank so much water that I think I broke my own record for peeing. I went to bed early, right after Alias (my heart aches for you Michael Vaughn). And then I woke up this morning. With a motherfucking headache. Growing up, I rarely got headaches, I was more of a tummy ache kind of kid (could've been from all the candy I ate when out of view from my parents - often courtesy of Zach Fox). But as I've gotten older, it appears I'm prone to headaches, even the occasional migraine. For the entire day today, I've been achey and tired and my head is killing me. As I mentioned, I hate getting sick. To me, it's the end of the world, and I become quite impressively unable to function. Woe is me. But I know it's all mental - I must be tough, I have to fight this off, I cannot get sick. I have plans: birthday dinners, parties, holiday meals. There is no bigger way to punish a Jew than to have them sit through a great meal when they cannot taste the food. I refuse to get sick. I must stay positive.
I think I might go home early. To fret about my headache and the transit strike in the comfort of my own home. Maybe I'll watch CNN and re-instate some perspective on life. I really don't like being sick, but it's not the end of the world. I could catch up on some reading - 3 scripts for work and I've been meaning to start "White Teeth" for weeks. And I'm going to continue to fight sickness with my personal karma plan (who needs a Flu Shot when you have the kind, watchful eyes of the Lord, aka F. Scott Fitzgerald?). No one likes Sicky Sue, especially when she writes super self-indulgent blogs with the word phlegm. That's not good for anybody.
I think I blame my walk to work yesterday. Well, to be fair, I did wake up a bit phlegmy, but my walk to work definitely exacerbated the situation. My face basically froze off and by the time I got to work, I was coughing. Every single time I get a cough, I try to reassure myself that a cough doesn't always turn into a cold. And then it always does. I called my Mom on the phone and told her that I felt like I was getting a cold. She said "stay away from milk, all dairy products, and OJ" (because they've been known to make more phlegm) and as these words came out of her mouth, I realized I was literally caught red-handed. I promptly put down my cup of milky coffee and my egg & cheese sandwich. Oops. So I kicked into high remedy gear - water, tea, vitamins, echinacea, protein, antibacterial wipes, cold-eeze - anything I could get my hands on. As the day went on, I felt my cough subsiding. But because I'm a paranoid, germaphobic freak, I knew I'd have to continue to fight the sick, and this fight - I actually think it all comes down to personal karma.
I've read articles that claim that you can't catch a cold from another person or from being outside in cold weather. I don't really believe either (even though one time, I made out with Hipster John and the next day he had a cold and I never got one). I'm quite vigilant about trying to avoid getting sick - I wash my hands all the time, I don't let anyone share my drinks (unless you're related to me or dating me) and I try to get a lot of sleep so my immune system is well rested. I stay away from people who are sick - I try to be nice and subtle about it - i.e. "stay away from me, you're sick". And I try to eat healthy and exercise - but here's where the self-karma part comes in. Last night, I forced myself to go to the gym, not really because I know that exercise is good for me and maybe it would help to fight off sickness, but mainly because I view going to the gym as a good deed, a self-mitzvah, so that whoever is up there watching (God, Yahweh, George Burns, whatever you want to call him) is like, "Hey, that Susan is going to the gym even though she had a long day at work and it's 19 degrees, give that cold we were going to give her to someone else." I know that is silly, but that's kind of how I think. How else would you explain the fact that I stayed on the elliptical for 75 minutes last night?! Normally after half an hour, I'm tired and a bit bored and ready to stop. But last night, I was like an elliptical robot. I felt like I could have stayed on forever - running like the wind.
EDITOR'S NOTE: It's at this juncture that I should admit that there was another factor leading me to stay on the elliptical, in addition to trying to heal myself via gym karma - 'N Sync. Roll your eyes, judge me, say whatever you want, it's undeniable - "Tearin' Up My Heart" & "I Want You Back" - fucking perfect work out music (Shout out to Dude for the good recommendation).
I was really proud of myself for working out like a maniac. I went home and had some Moo Shoo Chicken - making sure that whoever was watching me to determine if I'll get sick (Adonai, Moses, Nat King Cole) could see that I was eating protein and vegetables like a good girl. I drank so much water that I think I broke my own record for peeing. I went to bed early, right after Alias (my heart aches for you Michael Vaughn). And then I woke up this morning. With a motherfucking headache. Growing up, I rarely got headaches, I was more of a tummy ache kind of kid (could've been from all the candy I ate when out of view from my parents - often courtesy of Zach Fox). But as I've gotten older, it appears I'm prone to headaches, even the occasional migraine. For the entire day today, I've been achey and tired and my head is killing me. As I mentioned, I hate getting sick. To me, it's the end of the world, and I become quite impressively unable to function. Woe is me. But I know it's all mental - I must be tough, I have to fight this off, I cannot get sick. I have plans: birthday dinners, parties, holiday meals. There is no bigger way to punish a Jew than to have them sit through a great meal when they cannot taste the food. I refuse to get sick. I must stay positive.
I think I might go home early. To fret about my headache and the transit strike in the comfort of my own home. Maybe I'll watch CNN and re-instate some perspective on life. I really don't like being sick, but it's not the end of the world. I could catch up on some reading - 3 scripts for work and I've been meaning to start "White Teeth" for weeks. And I'm going to continue to fight sickness with my personal karma plan (who needs a Flu Shot when you have the kind, watchful eyes of the Lord, aka F. Scott Fitzgerald?). No one likes Sicky Sue, especially when she writes super self-indulgent blogs with the word phlegm. That's not good for anybody.
posted by Susan Goldberg at 4:25 PM
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