I got up, convinced that I was well enough to face work, dressed and even started on the make up. It was around the second eye however when I realised my throat was pretty tight and not letting much air in, plus I was swaying on the spot with light headedness. I made a decision that perhaps if I spent the day in bed and drugged myself up like a goodun (love a good prescription drug) then I should be back and swinging by tomorrow.
So I made the decision to stay at home today. And back to bed I went. However sleep didn't sit well with me and I spent the whole morning waking up in a cold sweat. This wasn't because of the icky bug I was harbouring... no, this was due to the wonderful thing that tends to govern my life from time to time. This thing is called guilt.
Guilt is a bitch of a thing in my life. It used to be worse... Much worse... like 'causing me to self destruct my life' worse... but I got sense and bullied it out of me. However every so often the residual desire to blame myself for causing the world to potentially be wiped out due to my actions does sneak itself in occasionally.
When I think about it, it is actually a pretty arrogant reaction to the world but it is one that has been there for a very long time. An example of this would be (at the time of my life when it was at it's height) I could not physically say no to any favour asked of me. Not a single one, you could have asked me to train for and run a marathon in a week and I would have probably said yes (if you know me and my fondness for fitness you would know how ridiculous a feat that would be).
It was even easier for me to say yes if I felt in any way that this meant a lot to you. Automatically I would feel that if it meant that much to you and I didn't do it then my negative reaction would cause you to fall into a pit of depression or make you so put out that you may never recover from it.
Yes I know this sounds ridiculous. Yes I know it sounds over the top and completely unrealistic and I wish more than anything that I can tell you this is one of those posts where I may have embellished things a bit but unfortunately this was a very true fact.
Now, I have learnt the joy of saying no. Now I have learnt how to be lazy and overly selfish (in a good way I hope!) and it's been quite nice. However there are residual feelings there and calling in sick to work, no matter how justified it may be, is definitely one of them.
I just automatically think that by me not being there it means the whole place will fall apart. I know, it sounds arrogant. Not to mention I've only been there for 6 months and I hear they did just fine there before I arrived.
All day though I've been running through my brain all the things that I should have been doing at work today and whether my choice to stay at home has now caused people to spontaneously combust in their seats or whatnot.
Ridunkulous no? I know. And due to this fact I just know that unless one of my legs falls off or something tomorrow morning, I will be dragging my drugged up arse into work and immediately regretting it the moment I'm there... On a side note: How weird would it be if one of my legs did fall off tomorrow? In amongst the pain and A&E visits I have to assume at some point I will think to myself "That's just plain spooky."
On the plus side, I have now seen the latest Doctor Who series all the way through for the 15th time and I think I have a lot more things on the series sussed out in my brain. I've watched the latest episode (aired last Sat) four times now and as it was the first part in a double bill I think I have now worked out all the questions that need to be answered in the second half... I also may have written them down in list form with a view to tick them off as I watch this Sat... I've just realised two reasons why I shall be dragging my arse back to work tomorrow.
Much love.
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