Monday afternoon at work, I felt like ass.
I just assumed it was a result of the fact that it was Monday. I’d also had a busy/stressful weekend dealing with some of the fun that comes along with dating someone in the process of a divorce. Though it’s a wonderful, sparkly thing 90% of the time, there are issues that come up that force you to be all mature, and talk about stuff, and build trust and yadda yadda…
Yeah, you’re not interested.
But I thought, “Ugh. See, dealing with that crap AND being at work have made me feel ass-ey. Clearly I need to not work on Mondays, AND not grow as a person in my relationship. I’m allergic to both.”
Then I started to realize that perhaps my symptoms weren’t actually psycho-somatic at all, but that I had an actual fever. Of 100.3. Which for me, is decent.
*cue whining and complaining and expecting the world to cater to me*
Ok, not really.
*cue heading to McDonald’s drive-thru for a cheeseburger because dammit that’s what I needed*
Yeah, that part is true. For some reason whenever I’m sick, I just need a cheeseburger. Whether I associate trips to McDonalds with being a little Brooke and feeling safe and having Mom break up my cheeseburger into baby-sized bites, or whether McDonalds uses pickles with Crack in them, I’ll never know. It’s just a fact of life.
Sick = Cheeseburger.
There are no exceptions to this.
Sitting at home, comfortably in my pjs and enjoying my delicious bounty, I started thinking about what other things are a must-have for self comforting.
Pajamas and Ridiculously Comfy Footwear: Duh. Wearing real clothing when sick is completely masochistic. Acceptable attire includes anything flannel, hoodies, and slouchy socks. Sometimes stolen from Dad’s drawers.
Gatorade: Must keep hydrated. Preferably the blue kind. Because Gatorade doesn’t really have “flavors” per se, just colors. Seriously. Try to describe the flavor of any particular color of Gatorade. No cheating with the “Lime.” or “Orange” ones. Which don’t really taste like limes or oranges. But more like water with a little hint of something citrus that may potentially be lime or orange. But I don’t care because I love them.
Ginger Ale: Miracle drink of the Gods. Even if it no longer contains anything resembling actual ginger.
Cold Facecloths: Again back to when Mom used to take care of Sick Little Brooke. Seemingly a cure for fever, nausea, sinus pressure, and annoying housepets.
Chick Flicks: MUST MUST MUST. As I am deathly ill and any and all activity could cause my condition to worsen, I have no choice but to be sedentary on the couch for hours watching romantic comedies. Including but not limited to “Bridget Jones’ Diary” (one and two), “Pride and Prejudice,” (the new version) “The Family Stone,” and “The Proposal.” For me, watching a familiar movie is the same thing as comfy clothes and chicken soup, but in a totally mental way.
What are YOUR sick day must-haves??