I stayed home from work on Wednesday. Not because I was feeling particularly sick, mostly just because I felt OWED a sick day. Allow me to explain. I SHOULD have stayed home on Tuesday. Tuesday was a miserable, miserable day for yours truly.
It started Monday night. The pressure in my sinuses expanding, the nasaly drip down the back of my throat, the constant need to sneeze but then not being able to. Even under normal sleeping circumstances, this sinus condition would've made sleeping a challenge. I woke up tired, angry, weepy and stuffy (pregnancy hormones - they're a bitch!) So Tuesday morning started out bad. I knew it. Daniel knew it. He suggested I stay home. I told him he's not the boss of me and tearfully, resentfully, with a head full of pounding snot, got ready for work.
I got to the office late and plodded through reflected ceiling plans whilst nearly constantly blowing my nose (which was also making me wee) and feeling like a large, tired, slow-moving land mass with sinuses from a hell dimension. I made myself stay there the entire day because I'm stubborn (and stupid) like that. Finally went home. Ate chicken noodle soup. Met very briefly (thank god) with a doula candidate (more on that later) and went to bed early.
Without having taken any kind of medication whatsoever, I woke up (or rather Daniel woke me up) Wednesday morning with a clear head and a clean emotional slate.
But I stayed home anyway because I was mad that I didn't stay home the previous day when I SHOULD have. I know, my idiotic rationale kinda makes my head spin as well.
It was such a lovely "sick" day. I slept in and then had ice cream for breakfast. I played computer games. Talked to my sister. Cleaned the house (the "nesting instinct" is kicking in big time!). Put dinner in the crock pot. Took a nap. Took a bubble bath. It was one of the best sick days I've ever had and totally worth my miserable Tuesday.