You're sick, are you?

Last Thursday was my birthday and since I'm not one for big celebrations, my birthday treat was going out for ice cream. And it was DE-LICIOUS. Now you know I did that vegan thing for about 6 weeks. Well, the last few weeks, I've been eating the occasional piece of chicken or salmon and I really don't have much of a desire to go back to the way I was eating. I know! I can't believe it either.

However, as Ben and Jerry will attest, I do likes my ice cream.

I knew I would feel like crap the day after my indulgence and I did. My head was stuffed, sinuses puffy and my throat was killing me. Don't get me wrong, I would do it again. I just had no idea I would feel that bad from ice cream.

I still felt really out of sorts on Friday and Saturday, I had to cancel my plans for the day. By the middle of Saturday night, I had a full blown nasty cold that knocked me on my ass. Hmmm....I guess I didn't feel that bad from ice cream after all. Good to know..

I've even worked from home the last few days, which I never do. In fact, I don't think I've stayed home more than once in the last year and a half.

My father instilled a really strong work ethic in me and I always feel incredibly guilty when I stay home;like everyone thinks I'm playing hooky or something. I'm sure they don't, but I want to email them all a photo of the huge snot bag I take from room to room to dump my used tissue in. Then, I want to call each person's voice mail, cough in the phone and leave a message in that 'middle aged woman who retired to Florida' voice that I get when I'm sick.

You know the voice. She's the woman who smokes too many cigarettes and spends too much time in the sun. She takes a drag on a cigarette, "Sweethawt, you look like my second husband. He was a good providuh but not much between the sheets, if ya know what I mean?" Exhhhaaallleee....

I picture them sitting around the lunchtable, "She's not sick. It's a nice day out. Gee, I'm feeling a little ill, too. Cough. Cough." And then they all have a good laugh at my expense.

Next, they wander in and out of my office, taking dibs on my pictures, office supplies and chairs, just in case I don't make it. Kind of like when Ebenezer Scrooge dies and people take the bed curtains from his bed before his body is even cold.

I'm sure they probably don't do any of these things but I've had a little too much Robitussin and decongestants.