I took a sick day yesterday. I wasn’t going toward the light or anything. I was probably just being a big baby, but I just didn’t feel well at all. I just wanted to lay around and feel sorry for myself. It seemed best to do that at home. That sort of self-indulgence is frowned upon in places of business. We do see people wafting around in public in their pajamas, but I don’t think they’re sick. I think they’re just making questionable fashion choices — at least one hopes. If everyone in public pajamas is actually ill we are in the midst of another pandemic without our knowledge.
Settling into my sick day, I mooned around the house for a while. That was kind of fun. First, I texted Mr. Wonderful to inform him that I would be home sick all day. He couldn’t do a thing about it, but he’s my best friend and should know. I need those heart emojis. Also, I didn’t want him to notice I was home via the Life360 app and worry that I had fallen and couldn’t get up.
Fully committed to rest, I tried the recliner. I lounged on the sofa. It all felt weird. Laying about like a frail Victorian damsel on a Thursday is not the norm for me. Without my great gram giving me ginger ale and saltine crackers with Bob Barker-era “Price is Right” in the background, it all just feels wrong.
Sun
Around midday, I felt like maybe some fresh air would help. I think a little sunshine and nature can really perk a person up. It gets to feeling stale in the soul when you’ve been inside for too long. This is when I felt that the dogs, who were already very confused by my presence, would welcome a small respite. I had been sure that having my company all day long would be a dream come true to Jackson and Nova. I was wrong. I attempted to get them to come out and sit on the porch with me. Honestly, they’ve never been so put out in their lives. Nova behaved as if she was late clocking into her shift, holding down the sofa. Sorry to bother you, ma’am.
It occurred to me that in being home on a day I normally was not was cramping their style. It makes me wonder what kind of plans they have when we are gone. Are they having friends over? Raiding the pantry? Dance parties in the living room? What exactly is going on?
Nova is a natural born nurse. By this, I mean she is concerned I need to be poked and prodded. She needs proof of life — preferably in the form of proving I’m ambulatory by way of providing her endless snacks.
Jackson, being a team player, deigned to nap with me in bed for a bit. My little buddy really tried, but I could tell it was all kinds of odd for him. He was completely unsettled by daylight bedtime. How could he be expected to sleep quietly in bed with squirrels running amok outside? He lay there with one eye open. A low growl at the ready. Clearly, he was humoring me. I finally let him go back downstairs to guard the living room from what I suspect would be a squirrel onslaught if he didn’t remain vigilant.
