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Who Turned Up the Gravity?

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Around 9 am each day at work, I go to the kitchen, put the electric kettle on, and make myself some instant oatmeal. Unless there’s a food I’m particularly excited about, I usually can’t bring myself to eat any earlier than that. But on this particular day, as I brought the first spoonful of oatmeal up to my mouth, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t sure I was actually going to be able to swallow it. I felt ill. Not my favorite.

The following hour brought on a spiraling decline of nausea, dizziness, and utter exhaustion. It quickly became apparent that if I did not go home and go to bed, something awful would happen. Luckily, at the slightest hint of illness, my coworkers start stepping away and insist that I go home. They don’t mess around when it comes to germs.

I somehow managed to drive myself home, though I don’t remember much of it. As soon as I walked in the door, I changed out of my work clothes and back into my pajamas. I then proceeded to fall on the bed and sleep for about four hours, interrupted only by my very confused husband who didn’t check his text messages before leaving for work.

I spent the rest of the evening feeling like I could barely pick myself up. I accomplished absolutely nothing short of playing Sims for way way way too long. It is impossible to stop playing that game.

I feel so guilty when I don’t work, or at the very least check something off my list of movies or books. There are a lot of things I want to do or need to do. I did none of them, and even though I was sick, I felt just awful about it. What’s with all the guilt? Someone please explain.

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About Renee

Life should be awesome, even if your paycheck isn't. I'm trying to live awesomely on $20 a day.

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