On Friday morning, I woke up with a sore throat. This may not seem like a disaster, but considering two of my colleagues had just taken entire weeks off work with the dreaded lurgy, my first thought was "Ohhhhhhhhh crap...". See, I hate being sick. And courtesy of catching public transport everywhere, it doesn't happen very often. So when it does, I turn into a total boy and sit around sulking about the fact that I'm sick and demanding that my toast be cut into soldiers. (Okay, I don't really do that, but only because I'm the one who'd have to cut the toast into soldiers, so I don't need to make demands about it...)
As colds go, this one hasn't been particularly horrific - although I did have a delightful moment at the supermarket yesterday where my blood pressure went funky and I thought I was going to relive a particularly memorable experience from Guatemala when I nearly blacked out at an ATM - except without the AK-47, obviously...
Aaaaaaanyway, this morning led to something of a first for me. As I went to phone my boss and let her know that I'd be keeping my germs at home today, I realised that I've never actually phoned in sick before. I'm not quite sure how I've managed over five years in the workforce without phoning in sick. That's not to say I haven't taken sick days. I have - four of them. Three were my first week in the work force - a nice dose of fresher's flu. And the fourth was when I turned up to work with a hacking cough and a box of tissues, and my boss told me that she couldn't concentrate with all the noise I was making, so could I please go home.
So as I phoned my boss this morning, I had a small panic attack of the "Oh God, what if she doesn't believe me, and demands that I get to work immediately?????" sort. Not to mention the fact that I already felt guilty about calling in sick. I'm not quite sure how this works. I suspect it has something to do with seeing Dad work for the one company his entire life, and only ever take sick leave when he broke his leg, had to have surgery, and was on crutches with a full length cast for eight weeks. Or the fact that as a kid, I can remember going "I'm siiiiiiiiiiick, I can't go to school today", and Mum going "Eh, you look fine to me. You're going." No Ferris Bueller moments for this little black duck!!
My brother seems to have no such guilt feeling problems - I know because I emailed him several times last year only to get a phone call back hours later saying that he was chucking a sickie to play Wii... WHY COULDN'T I GET THAT GENE, DAMMIT??????
Ahem. What was my point? Oh yeah - that I'm off sick today. And that I shall revel in my one sick day, because it's likely to be the only one I can bring myself to take all year...
K :) xx