Day 1:
I cannot possibly be sick. After all the vitamin C and Echinacea and sleeping on the couch to avoid Nick’s cold-y germs I cannot believe that I have caught this bug. But, no matter. Or rather mind over matter. If I keep acting like I’m healthy my body will follow suite. Washing my hands every 5 minutes with scalding water, I fill my day with baking until (Ew! So gross!) a drip falls from my nose into my mixing bowl and I’m forced to throw away an entire batch Chocolate Chunk Pecan Brownies. At this point I call it a day and crawl into bed despite the fact that it is 8:30 pm.
Day 3:
I was supposed to get to work at 6:30 this morning but when my alarm sounded I felt as though my body was filled with lead and I lacked the strength to drag it out of bed. I make it in at 8:30 which is my normal starting time, but not the time I would choose to arrive given that my department is slammed and I’m operating at ½ speed. The only thing that gives me hope is that I have a wonderful Italian Rabbit Soup waiting in the company fridge for lunch.
Normally I have band practice on Mondays, but today there’s no chance of my going. My voice is a croak and vocals are out of the question as is playing bass in an unheated warehouse for several hours. Instead I listen to an instrumental recording of our music and try to come up with lyrics while I eat the macaroni and cheese with cut up hotdogs that Nick has made for me. Once I nudge him a little he whips up a batch of Sautéed Kale to go on the side so that there’s at least one thing that’s not day-glow on my plate.
Day 4:
Are you kidding? Work again? The work week should totally be 1 day long at most when you’re sick. Although I slept for 11 hours last night I still feel exhausted and my nose continues to run freely leaving raw red skin underneath. I try to make an mini Irish Breakfast to give myself strength for the day, but when I serve Nick a plate I realize that my sense of taste has been destroyed by my diminished sense of smell. He kindly clears the plate or its contents, but I can tell that it’s an effort.
Day 6:
After almost a week of stuffiness I can finally breathe through both nostrils at the same time. This seems like more of an acheivement than the stacks of cookies that now litter my counter tops. Merry Christmas to me!
December 25, 2007 at 6:09 PM
Wow, rough week huh?
I’m not sure how you succeed in churning out massive amounts of food when sick. Very impressive, indeed. I just can’t bring myself to eat much at all when I’m feeling under the weather.
Remind me to give you the recipe for that bleu cheese sauce at some point. I had masses of it, but it turned out to keep well and have various delicious uses.
Merry Christmas!
December 26, 2007 at 6:22 PM
Dwight had me over for xmas dinner. I can’t believe how good he is at baking in an easy bake oven. “Steve, you really need to get the oven”, Dwight said. The holiday became strange when he offered me cookies that were in the shape of a penis. All I can say is, “that’s my dwight”