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muckefuckNow, I'm officially back, trying to get a grip on a week's worth of work. Do I feel good? No. Do I feel better? Yep; the secret is starting from a very low baseline. For posterity, here's what I remember of my week out of time:
Tuesday: Come to work exhausted, with minor sore throat. Decided to slink away and sleep it off as soon as I can. Stumble into Monshu (I'd totally forgotten he'd taken the day off and he was so amused, he didn't let on, even after I said I'd be crashing there a few hours) and realise this was more than just lack of sleep. We stay up too late watching the All-Hitler Channel, sleep badly.
Wednesday: Sleep more. Throat so bad I can't stand to have anything but broth. Pain pills and topical analgesic ineffective. See doctor in evening, get diagnosis ("viral pharyngitis", i.e. "sore throat, not strep"), prescription for codeine. Go home, go to bed. Awakened by horrible gas pains. Sleep.
Thursday and Friday: Sleep, interspersed with brief periods (less than 3 hrs. at a stretch) of wakefulness. So out of it, barely able to read. Eating is a tedious, painful affair; diet only broth, yoghurt, and (special treat!) canned mandarin oranges.
Saturday: Able to do without codeine; sharp enough to spend day reading. Go to Monshu's in evening since he made lion's heads special for me. Eat one, feel oogie. Turn down offer of sex.
Sunday: Dizziness. Lie around a lot. Chat with Monshu. Throat much better, appetite returning at last. Have first solid food (pork chop) that evening, first sex in a week. Begin reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Monday: Drilling in walls prevents sleeping in. Eventually driven across street for lousy ham sandwich, more reading. Dinner and t.v. with Monshu. Trip home, more reading, sleep.
Tuesday: Oversleep. Come to work tired, draggy, and generally cold-ridden. Sit around a lot. Wonder if it's too soon to go home again.
On the plus side, I was asleep or drugged so much of the time that I never really got bored. Monshu was a prince, never flagging in his solicitousness. I feel luckier than ever to have him. On the minus, christ on a stick, what happened to my fucking week? Here it is, June--JUNE! and I've got nothing done. Saturday was supposed to be house showings followed by gaming and interviewing; it turned out to be lying in bed sleeping and reading some Korean history.
I'm really annoyed. I'm even more annoyned that I don't feel well even now. All things being equal, I'd be at home in bed. But I tried that for a week, and this is where it got me, so I'm just going to soldier through--
--and infect every damn co-worker I can in the process.
Tuesday: Come to work exhausted, with minor sore throat. Decided to slink away and sleep it off as soon as I can. Stumble into Monshu (I'd totally forgotten he'd taken the day off and he was so amused, he didn't let on, even after I said I'd be crashing there a few hours) and realise this was more than just lack of sleep. We stay up too late watching the All-Hitler Channel, sleep badly.
Wednesday: Sleep more. Throat so bad I can't stand to have anything but broth. Pain pills and topical analgesic ineffective. See doctor in evening, get diagnosis ("viral pharyngitis", i.e. "sore throat, not strep"), prescription for codeine. Go home, go to bed. Awakened by horrible gas pains. Sleep.
Thursday and Friday: Sleep, interspersed with brief periods (less than 3 hrs. at a stretch) of wakefulness. So out of it, barely able to read. Eating is a tedious, painful affair; diet only broth, yoghurt, and (special treat!) canned mandarin oranges.
Saturday: Able to do without codeine; sharp enough to spend day reading. Go to Monshu's in evening since he made lion's heads special for me. Eat one, feel oogie. Turn down offer of sex.
Sunday: Dizziness. Lie around a lot. Chat with Monshu. Throat much better, appetite returning at last. Have first solid food (pork chop) that evening, first sex in a week. Begin reading Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
Monday: Drilling in walls prevents sleeping in. Eventually driven across street for lousy ham sandwich, more reading. Dinner and t.v. with Monshu. Trip home, more reading, sleep.
Tuesday: Oversleep. Come to work tired, draggy, and generally cold-ridden. Sit around a lot. Wonder if it's too soon to go home again.
On the plus side, I was asleep or drugged so much of the time that I never really got bored. Monshu was a prince, never flagging in his solicitousness. I feel luckier than ever to have him. On the minus, christ on a stick, what happened to my fucking week? Here it is, June--JUNE! and I've got nothing done. Saturday was supposed to be house showings followed by gaming and interviewing; it turned out to be lying in bed sleeping and reading some Korean history.
I'm really annoyed. I'm even more annoyned that I don't feel well even now. All things being equal, I'd be at home in bed. But I tried that for a week, and this is where it got me, so I'm just going to soldier through--
--and infect every damn co-worker I can in the process.