So I got sick last night. Federal workers may have gone home because of the shutdown, but business is booming for the germs. I woke up this morning feeling numb and disconnected. My brain was unplugged from my body and I felt like I was a spectator to my own automatic functions.
Still, I had to get up and get my writing done for the day, at least a few thousand words. And even though most of those words are salvaged material, they look like absolute crap through the foggy lens of illness. Or maybe they really are just absolute crap. Regardless, I’ve written about ten pages so far today.
Since I’m way ahead of my word count at the moment, I could have easily taken time off. I didn’t because I was afraid that a day off now would interrupt the moment I’d built over the last week. However, I get it that people get sick, so if you’re feeling the pre-winter sniffles coming on, and don’t know whether or not you should tell your muse or judgmental bull or pocket kitten to take a hike, keep in mind that health comes first and that you’re only mortal.
Case in point: I came down with strep throat a couple of years ago. I tried to muscle my way through it, but the fact was that I was too messed up to even keep my eyes open. My throat had nearly completely sealed up, and frankly, I think I might have hallucinated a thing or two (do cats tap dance?).
Unless you’re puking green stuff and hosting a fever hot enough to melt glaciers – or, shit, if you feel like crap regardless of those symptoms – just remember that it’s okay to go easy on yourself.