Thankfully, it isn't messy sick. Just the far more obnoxious fever, scratchy throat and a migraine tri-fecta. When it came on Wednesday night, I told Ammon it might keep me home. Deep down though, I didn't believe it. As a matter of course, I do my best to avoid calling in sick unless I am losing a limb, exorcising a demon (Linda Blair, much?), or should be admitted to a hospital. But there's something so debilitating about the migraine that supersedes all other illness and impairment.
Waking up on Thursday morning I was pretty sure that a school bus had driven over my head. Being stubborn, I decided to get up and shower, with the hopes that it would help. Oh how wrong I was. I got out of the shower, and called my boss. Sorry, I won't make it in. Then I went back to bed, with wet hair. So all day, I sported the sexiest look you ever did see:
However, one truly hilarious story came from this out of infirmity. I was stumbling down the hall to the bathroom, and tripped over a hanger that was laying on the floor. Ammon asked me to please not die. I told him that he needed to stop leaving his hangers where they could kill me then, as it was clearly one of the ugly orange hangers that we own, and I refuse to hang up my clothes with ugly orange hangers, so the blame is firmly on his shoulders.
Yup, that happened. I used logic based on the color of a clothes hanger.
My head is still hating me, so I leave off here. Hope that you are all having a fantastic Friday!