on sickness in the modern day
on friday my throat started to feel that way it does before i get a cold or a flu. fortunately i had the next two days off so i could fight it and get back to work. my attendance has been an issue, every morning im like an old car that you have to kick, curse at and turn the key at least thirty-two times to get the engine running. depression, everyone has it; who am i to show up late and honestly say that i'm depressed and have no other excuse?
it was true at least, that was the only reason i could give and my step-mother beat the liar out of me when i was ten, so all i could do was to turn out my empty pockets. two days to get over this flu or cold or whatever. the angel that is my boyfriend makes me tea and from-scratch chicken noodle soup on the first day, all three do more than help. i go to sleep that night feeling confident after a day of bed-laying.
wouldn't you know it, my immune system was scheming this whole time! i felt the tea, the soup and the love of my boyfriend ease the sickness the previous night but here i am in the morning with an almost empty jar of spoilt jam for a throat. that's alright, more tea, more soup, rest up and i'll be good as new for work the next day. i have to be, i'm out of...
uneasily, my manager tells me i don't have enough sick time for the day. i tell him to have a good day. his words and his cadence bounce around my brain for the rest of the day. of course i know how much sick time i have, i've only been sat down to talk about it for several consecutive weeks thusfar. i'm sick. my flesh computer has a virus and it seeks to infect others. going to work would mean the whole crew would get sick and not all of them are twenty-eight with an immune system that's got hands.
back to bed then, rest up, rest up. hot liquids, leftover soup. sink into a depression and feel like a useless sack of - i mean rest up, rest up. hot liquids, more soup. some medicine, some reading. rinse, repeat just dont mind that one bit, you know the part where i realize how very dull the teeth on my cog have gotten. am i even a cog? maybe i'm just one tooth on the wheel and its worn down, guess i'll need to see the orthodontist, only that's too expensive...
can't afford to sharpen up your tools for work when you're over-tired, depressed and over-tired some more, somehow maintaining a job amidst all that sleepiness. anyways it's getting late and by the frequency and intensity of my coughing, i know i'll be talking to the uneasy man again come morning.
least i know i'll be alright once this blows over; i lean on my boyfriend and other loved ones and friends and they lean on me, forming an interwoven trussel far more adaptable and resilient than the ones and zeroes produced by a collection of rotating cogs. because we're together, we'll be just fine. we'll have soup tea, and take care of each other and nothing can take that away from us.
be well to eachother <3