Do you remember all those times when your nose was running, your face was melting, you coughed all over me and I was breathing your stale sick air while your head bobbed back and forth on my shoulder as you passed out on the bus from sheer exhaustion? That was a special time. A time when you should NOT HAVE COME INTO WORK and INFECTED ME WITH YOUR BACTERIAL SWILL.
But I'm not angry. No no...I understand that you thought the problem was me. I refused to wear one of those surgical masks to protect me. But I just wasn't willing to let go of one of the most amazing parts of American culture. You see, I still believed in the "sick day"- that glorious invention by which those who are deathly, infectiously ill stay home and get better and then go back to work after the potential for passing on the pinkeye/flu/stomach virus/H1N1/ herpes outbreak has passed. YES SUH! I BEEEEEEEELIEEEEEEEVE!
And now that I've been home for 6 months and employed again for 2, I've been happily reunited with the Sick Day. And we are in love. This morning in fact, we lolled around in bed together after a fitful night of sleeplessness which ended in an ill advised fistful of Tylenol PM.
And then I came to work where I was NOT greeted by harried coworkers who had to cover my classes and did NOT reek of guilt for taking some time to myself to make sure I was functional.
but don't get jealous Korea, because before sick day and I had our tryst, you and I were getting busy in America over the weekend. Don't you remember? I took pictures to prove it. I'll post them soon so you can put them in your scrap book.