I'm now on Day 7 of a Very Bad Head Cold. Earlier this week, I thought I'd turned a corner only to wake up the next morning under the weight of congestion.
It's a weird feeling after nearly two years (now almost three years?) of isolation and almost no illnesses in our house. I've forgotten how to be sick. My body has forgotten how to be sick.
I was lucky that my work was low-key this week. It very well could have been the opposite. And now, as a freelancer with only myself to produce creative work, the idea of being sick for a few days is daunting. I'm literally in a fog.
I thought about cancelling a meeting yesterday, but decided against it. Pushing off the meeting would mean more work in the future. Besides, I use a meeting/transcript tool that records all of my meetings so I could review the transcript if I miss any details.
I'm frustrated that I can't just get better. I've been pounding the OTC meds. Trying to get a good night's sleep and nap (hard when I'm so congested). Probably my efforts are helping that I'm not getting worse. But I wish I were back to normal.
I had my kids wear masks this week. They're not sick like me, but have been coughing (I blame them for bringing the germs to the party). I said, "Let's not share our germs with our friends." My 10-year-old quickly realized that the mask also keeps his face warm as he stands outside for the bus in the morning. I wish more parents would recognize that masks can keep regular illness at bay and return to mask-wearing in these winter months.
On top of everything, I'm so far behind in household stuff (like laundry). Ger has been great about taking care of the kids in the evening so I can go to bed early, but there's only so much he can do before he reaches his own exhaustion level.
I've got to balance "getting better" with "getting caught up." Especially with my eye on the calendar and knowing that I only have 3 weeks left in this working year before I take a break until 2023.