I missed work Tuesday because I was sick. Really I was tired, but the coughing (which has forced my husband to sleep in the guest room five of the last seven nights) and the pile of used tissues flowing out of the trash can at my bed side are proof enough that a little sickness was involved.
I used to be one of those people who, even whilst ill, would check her CrackBerry 72 jillion times and worry about what wasn’t getting done because she wasn’t there. But maternity leave taught me one thing – that place can definitely get by without me.
So I spent most of yesterday in bed, and, when I was feeling better and my husband had to go to work for election night (I did throw on a sweatshirt over my jammie pants and go vote about 9:45 a.m.), was able to handle the toddler rodeo.
So I didn’t check in with the office, I didn’t monitor my e-mail or check my phone messages from home. And I didn’t even feel guilty about it, not one tiny bit. I went in a little bit earlier than normal this morning, and nothing had burned down, exploded or collapsed, though they are remodeling three offices down the hall from me.
This, I think, counts as doing something for ME. I rested. And because of that, I felt 70 percent better today (I’m still braying like a donkey every 10 minutes or so) and was better able to contribute to the success of my job. Go, me!
And little R., ever the compassionate soul, would look up from various amusements of wrapping herself up in a blanket, burrito-style and rolling across the room or emptying every toy out of her toybox to pat my arm or my cheek soothingly and say, “’kay, Mommy. ‘kay Mommy. Night-night” before going back to her play.
Maybe I didn’t get any job-work done, but my Life’s Work is going swimmingly.