I've succumbed to some sort of illness. Yesterday I did a few hours of work from home before giving up -- made my deadline on a couple of stories and then died. (That is why they call it a deadline, isn't it?)
Today, I can't even rally enough to do that much. I'm just up for a few minutes right now to breathe. I've called in to the boss and will be crawling back in bed. I particularly hate being unable to work today because my good co-worker is out of town, taking her mother to her first chemotherapy session. This is going to be hard enough for her, having to drive 100 miles to the big city, finding the right building at the big hospital and then going through all that, then having to drive her mom home, unsure how she will react. Then the next couple of days are going to be rough. This cycle is just starting and will continue for several weeks until the tumor has shrunk enough to allow surgery. And then, the "fun" really begins.
This will cause a hardship on our small staff. Most of the remaining chowderheads have already chimed in to say "I'm NOT doing it" when it comes to her work. Well, right now I CAN'T do it, and someone is going to have to suck it up and just do it. Sorry, I'm getting a little peeved about this.
And I'm too sick to be getting upset on top of it.
Food-wise, I'll be scrambling to find things to eat here at the house while I'm down. I think there's still some soup around, and I have milk (if it hasn't expired) Plenty to make-do with if I just think about it. There will be no feasting until I'm better, though. Heck, for that matter there won't be any feasting for a couple of months because of some huge bills I've got to work into the strained budget. No, I'm not going down that path today!
I'm going back to bed for now, folks. Hmm. It looks foggy out there through the slit in the curtains. Maybe I'm not missing much today after all.
I'll sure be glad when I'm no longer barking like a dog and my nose isn't wet any more.