On the couch

Normally this would mean something different for me, but this week, it is more literal.

I have apparently contracted a stomach bug and have been, therefore, banned from going to work, since I work in a school. Although I often joke that it is a "germ-redistribution centre", I don't think they want that to be its official purpose, so one day off (Tuesday) to recover from dizzy, flu symptoms has now become four days off.

I am a bit sad.

I like work. And not only do I like work, but I like to be a "good" worker. This probably stems from some version of the "nice girl syndrome" whereby little girls want to grow up to be "nice and pretty" or something similar. Here I am a grown woman, who truly believes that if someone is ill, they should keep themselves home, take care of themselves and keep their mangy plagues to themselves. I too have read the shocking statistics about "presenteeism", worse in the States than here in the UK, I suspect, what with everyone actually having medical care and all, but there is still guilt that niggles.

But this is no drippy nose. And I cover a lot of food technology lessons. The mind boggles at the potential for an unwitting carrier to spread the virus (I am assuming it's a virus) I apparently am currently carrying. I feel like I might say to my kids next week: look kids! I stayed home! I didn't come and cook pizza with you even though it was going to be fun!

And by stressing about missing work, I will only make myself more miserable. I didn't even make this choice after all. I have to see this as a considerate thing I am doing for others, so they do not get sick. I am walking the walking. Or lying on the couch. Whatever.