When Sharing Crosses the Line

You know, they say best friends share everything. Well, my work bff Clara took that saying just a little too far and shared her sickness with me. I ought to serve her right and stay home from work tomorrow so she will have to do my job and hers.

Except I can’t really stay home tomorrow. I left work early Friday because I felt sick, and the week before that I was off because I went to Chicago. And next week I’ll be going to Michigan. Plus, all this taking off and spending money on trips means I need all the money I can get–that Michigan trip has been expensive as hell to plan since it includes an expensive-@ss football ticket, an expensive-@ss hotel room, plane tickets, a shuttle from Detroit to Ann Arbor (and back) and will eventually include food costs. Seriously, if I told you how much I have spent so far, especially if you’re not a sports fan, you’d think I was nuts (if you don’t already). Alas, this is the price you pay for being a diehard fan and a loyal alum–especially one who lives in a totally different region from her team/alma mater.

So, I will be dragging it into work tomorrow morning, probably getting more people sick like Clara did with me. That Michigan trip is so going to be worth it–I really can’t wait, and I’m glad I got sick now and not then since I knew it was coming, despite trying to avoid it. I always get sick around this time every year, July-August-September. I’ll never forget being sick on the first day of class in law school my first year of law school, and you can’t miss the first day. And last year I was sick the first weekend of college football/labor day weekend, when people at work acted as if I extended a 3-day weekend into a 4-day weekend merely for the hell of it. No, I was being tortured by mucous. Oh, and of course there was the bar exam debacle…well, let’s not talk about that one.

Man, I tell ya–when you’re sick, you just want to be in bed, take meds (depending on whether you’re one of those people who does or one of those weirdos who refuses to take them), sleep, watch TV (or in my case, play music all day, as I’ve done all weekend–TV is taking too much focusing). And doesn’t it always feel as if you’re either being burned alive or frozen to death (unfortunately for me, I prefer “frozen to death” but am dealing with “burned alive” and the sweaty yuckiness that accompanies it)?

‘Tis the season for illness, so steer clear of that hacking, sniffling co-worker who felt the need to bring his/her @ss to work anyways.

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