Today’s a sick day for me.
Now, I haven’t called in sick on this blog in over two years. And I don’t plan to start now.
But it was kind of funny how I felt great all day, until I stepped into my car for the 30 minute drive home. Then, I suddenly felt, exhausted, nauseated, and kind of drunk. And my skin hurts now. Ow, ow, ow…that was my skin.
My wife is one of those people who loves liesure time. She works hard, and craves a block of time to do nothing.
I, on the other hand, while I enjoy time off, have a really hard time really embracing it. Doing…nothing…for an extended period of time? Sounds…wrong. It’s hard for me to disconnect from the electronics while on vacation. It’s hard to leave work at work. It’s hard to give my undivided attention to my wife when I come home.
And I feel like I get these 24 hour bugs every now and again, just to make me stop. I had all these plans for productivity yesterday evening and today. I didn’t get one thing done. I slept…and complained to my wife. Complaining is probably my favorite sick day activity. I’m almost sad when I get better and my wife doesn’t listen to my pleas for help anymore.
I definately do not embrace the Sabbath day ideal of doing nothing. It sounds weird to ask people at church what they’re doing Sunday afternoon, and say I’m doing nothing. Nothing is wrong, it’s un-Protestant. I think there was something about that Protestant work ethic that built the country. Great, so now America is counting on me to keep moving. I’m letting America down.
It’s hard for me to remember that we were created to sleep a third of our lives away, and rest another day of the week, and take a bunch of time off for holidays. We have to cancel plans for the weather. So today, my mind is rebelling, as I struggle to form a coherant thought, forcing me to stop, to realize that those things I want to do can wait, to let the earth keep moving without me.
Are you the kind of person who’s always on the go without stopping, or do you crave that time to do nothing? Do you try to tough out a sick day, or do you turn into a blubbering pile of mush at the first sign of the sniffles?