I was planning on writing about my “Girl I am” and “Girl I want to be” looks from Sunday (more on that and comments, please!!), but after waking up on Monday with a mean case of the curse and an inability to get off the couch, I feel 2 steps behind square one.
Case in point. On Monday night: Dishes are in the sink, my hair is dirty and in a clip, I have both a MRI and a deposition tomorrow, yet only a hazy idea of which suit and which top and which shoes I am wearing (but I *do* have a pair of black sheers from my emergency-Walgreens-at-seven-fifteen-run). Yes I took out the trash and fed the cats and, well, worked today, but I feel like those leaves in my yard twisting in the wind.
Historically, I have been a big fan of working at home because I tend to do a lot of briefing (lawyer for writing), which, for me, requires pacing, being able to move around with my laptop, an absence of distractions, and maybe the company of my baby kitty Idgie:
But when I feel too bad to go to the office, I often feel like I could work, if only from the comfort of my bed. And I generally do, when I am sick, unless I have a rotten fever and need to sleep all day. The problem is, I *am* sick and so I’m not at my best. Something that might take me .4 takes me .6. I get up to take medicine, or make tea, and get distracted. And worst of all. GUILT. I feel guilty I’m not in the office. Guilty I’m not working faster. Guilty I’m not simultaneously revolutionizing pirate law, winning my pro bono cases, and attending to all the things I don’t have time to do.
For example, this morning started off rocky. I was up at 4, thinking about a case. I had major cramps, so I fed the cats and wrote a motion. Or started to. My computer crashed twice. 45 minutes later (do-not-bill .7), my computer was fixed, and I was back to the motion. 20 minutes later it was finished, filed, and I had some coffee. I evaluated my situation and decided I was in no shape to leave the house. Emails off and I settled in to prepare for a deposition. 2.o later, I emailed a bit, and decided to have a nap. 20 minutes later, I woke confused, thinking I should be in the office. I checked my email and found an email from an opposing counsel. And was swimming in a pool of guilt. The day continued in a similar fashion. I got a lot done, but by 430, was such a mess, I was almost frantic.
After a pep talk from B and a good night rest, things looked better on Tuesday and I had an extremely full day, but the guilt is still there. As a sage friend told me, I have a lot of who I am invested in what I do. And when I am not doing it at the pace and intensity I expect, the guilt is overwhelming. Why? No idea.
The answer? In this case it was making dinner and doing dishes with B. And going for a MRI for my ankle so I can stop hurting when I walk and start moving more. And jumping into the next day hoping my hair and suit will sort themselves out.
In any case, the next time I feel sick, I think I will try to choose as best as I can between work and sick, because the cure of working at home might be worse than the disease.