Not Working
Today was the first day I have called in sick since the pandemic began. That’s about two years, isn’t it? Both of my younger daughters had gone down with something recently, and today I’m guessing whatever they had caught up with me.
It’s odd — working from home, but then calling in to say you’re not going to be working. In my line of work it makes no sense to do anything complicated if you can’t think straight — so it’s better not to try; you’ll end up spending twice as long undoing whatever you caused.
I sat quietly with the old laptop this afternoon and tried to write a few words for Medium. What might typically have taken half an hour took most of the afternoon. I fed the text through Grammarly and re-read it several times — and STILL ended up editing out idiotic mistakes after publishing. Quite how the variously famous authors managed to write anything while drinking heavily is beyond me. I tend to need clarity of thought and peace and quiet to string more than a few words together.
I’m already starting to feel quite a bit better — I don’t tend to get sick for long. I guess I should be grateful for that. Perhaps an early night might help.