Prepped up and ready for me to jot down my work shifts, the Very Important Board Meeting, my therapy appointment, the program I'm doing on Thursday, the fun social engagements. And then...as I was prepping my smoothie for Monday's breakfast, I sneezed. And became aware, simultaneously, of the scratch in my throat, and my nose feeling stuffy. Ding dong! It's my semi-annual death cold of doom.
Fast forward to now, Thursday evening...I've only been able to go to work yesterday and today. Monday and Tuesday were lost to a black hole of tissues, sleeping, and snotting. Do you feel guilty taking sick days from work? I know I do. Emotionally, I worry that I am slacking, failing, disappointing the people I work with. Intellectually, I know--this is why we are given sick days. I know that my colleagues would rather I rot away at home rather than give them my creepin' crud. I know that I have to listen to my body and set my boundaries. But that's a lot of meetings I'm not attending, interviews I'm not conducting, schedules I'm not designing, emails I'm not answering, input I'm not giving, information I'm not processing. To say nothing of my own personal goals not being attended to. So, part of this week has crumbled to dust before it even started.
You see where this is going, right? If part of this week is ruined, then all of this week has been ruined. And so, it's a logical next step that the rest of the month is a lost cause, too, right? And if January is up in flames--welp, there goes 2020. Dead in the water.
Once again: intellectually and logically, I know that's not the case. But when I'm sick and miserable, it's hard not to feel that that's my reality.
Interestingly, my Eldest Sister, the Ghoul Next Door, is going through her own rough time right now--some rough workdays that are taking a lot out of her. She and I are discussing how one crappy day can kickstart you down the path to Self-Loathing City, home to the towering skyscrapers that line the avenues of angst, the boulevards of broken dreams, and the address that my negative self-talk calls home: Everything You Ever Touch Turns to Shit Street. Population: all of us. Or at least those of us who constantly wrestle a certain part of ourselves which is our own worst enemy.
My sister, wise woman that she is, has gotten better about salvaging a day--a week, a month, hell, maybe even a life--from the spiraling shitstorm that a crappy disappointment can provoke. She says she lets herself have an "oh well, that could have gone better moment," and then simply does better at the first opportunity. So, in other words: acknowledge the failure or the disappointment, but don't let the failure/disappointment live past its own moment in time. Move on to the next moment, the next opportunity, hell, the next day if we have to, but don't wallow in what's happened or let it determine what happens next.
But. She also thinks that a Bad Day Emergency Plan is a good idea. And in theory, I agree. In practice, though, what does that look like? Stay tuned. Once the Death Cold of Doom has moved onto its next victim, I am going to explore this more. In the meantime, I'm going to go try to stay hydrated, and I will call that Doing Better.
Do you have a Bad Day Emergency Plan? What does it look like?
I think I have got one! I am going to watch a Sailor Moon episode or two, send Yvan out for Chipotle, AND make a casserole. Cooking always makes me feel better, but I'll probably want to eat before the thing I am cooking is finished, we I hit upon the idea of sending out for food, and cooking leisurely a thing to eat in the future. Sailor Moon was chosen because there's a million seasons and I haven't seen but the first one, so it's a new thing and I am not retreading old ground (which is comforting, but depressing) but it is also familiar and silly. I probably need to add in a walk at the end of the evening, just to use up some of that nervous, anxious energy, too.
ReplyDeleteHow did I do? Any ideas for yourself?