Today, after my two-day stint of illness, including the aforementioned vomit, I am going to go back to work. I’d rather go back to bed, but the avalanche of tasks that will fall on me can only get worse. So I’m reduced to affirmations like, “I can do this,” and “It’s not going to kill me.” That second one might need a little work.
My healthy and stomach-friendly breakfast of toast does not seem to be agreeing with me. (No, friends, I am not pregnant. When I was pregnant, I threw up all day long, every day. This is not the same.) My healthy and stomach-friendly lunch of crackers is packed. Four or five thousand more repetitions of my affirmations should get me out the door.
Say it with me: “It’ll be four o’clock soon enough.” “I can always collapse at my desk.” “There are buckets at work.”
I don’t think it’s working. I’ll keep trying.