I didn’t have an easy night. Falling asleep didn’t happen easily. Staying asleep wasn’t going super well, either. At midnight, again, I was awake, drinking hot tea to sooth my sore throat, and waiting to be sleepy enough, again, to try sleep, again. Pillows piled too high, I didn’t seem to doze off. Too low and I found that I quickly couldn’t breathe. Sometime after 2 am, I found a “sweet spot”. The alarm went off far too soon after that.

Yesterday it was an achievement to enjoy a moment in the garden, quietly.

I woke with a clear sense that I am “getting over this”, at long last, although the cough persists, my throat is still sore, and my sinuses are still stuffy. There’s a new quality to it, subtle and hard to pin down specifically, that just feels like everything is, in some tiny way, just a bit less “off” and just a bit more “recovering”. I’m not well, though, and there are so many ways to choose to proceed that could delay getting over this completely. “Pushing myself too hard” is just one of them, but it is on my mind because it is one that I rather regularly choose. I’m not inclined to do that, today. I consider calling out entirely, but there is a small amount of preparatory work setting up tomorrow that I would ideally want to have done before tomorrow arrives… but… yeah, soooo not up to working an entire day in the office.

Today was either going to be working from home (this cough is pretty disruptive, if nothing else), or calling out entirely; that’s the decision that needs to be made this morning. I still don’t know. I was pretty sick Friday, such that I failed to bring my (work) laptop home with me (just wasn’t thinking clearly). To work from home I need to go get it. (The humor in that is not lost on me; if I work, I’ll have to commute, to get the laptop, to work from home.) Calling out comes with no such requirement, and omg I am so still sick enough, but it is a choice that requires convincing myself to let Monday’s work go even just one day, and picking up that thread tomorrow. Layers of decision-making. If I choose to call out today, and end up feeling like working from home tomorrow makes more sense than going into the office… then I’ve merely delayed that silly commute to pick up the laptop. If I think there is any risk at all I may want/need to work from home tomorrow, it makes sense to get the laptop today… doesn’t it? Or does it?

All the major weekly deliverables on my plate each week that go out to my consumers are handled on Mondays. This makes Mondays “matter” a great deal to me. But… so does my health. Shit. This is hard.

I do feel “more better” this morning than I have in days… My decision this morning may affect my timely recovery from illness… soooo…

I keep turning it over in my head. Pros. Cons. Back and forth. Out of nowhere I am wracked with coughs, choking on the crap my lungs are trying to expel that has slowly settled in them over days. No. It’s pretty clear. I’m not quite well yet. Almost there… almost… there…

I decide to call out for this one. Just, call out. Entirely. Work on getting sufficiently well to really return to work tomorrow. I find myself hoping this is the wiser choice. I breathe. Pay attention to my physical state of being in all particulars… I feel some tiny bit better today than any day I went home early last week… I also feel notably worse than any day I worked an entire shift last week… I also feel very much that one more day of recovery will see me past the worst of it, and really ready to get back to work… so…

I make the hard choice. I call out for today. I commit to taking care of this fragile vessel. I use up a couple more tissues. I cough for a few minutes more. I finish my coffee, and make a cup of tea. I adjust the thermostat to “staying home today”.

Then, I begin again.