Spring Fever

Pretty much everyone in my office has been sick, lately. Lots of sneezing and noses being blown, and I've been avoiding everyone as much as possible.

My desk is as far away from everyone else's as it can be. Unfortunately, it's still in the same closed environment.

So, when one of my co-workers was sick enough about 10 days ago that she fainted in her apartment and had to go to Urgent Care the next morning to make sure she hadn't broken anything, I made sure she was okay, but didn't get too close.

When people ran out of tissues, I didn't point out the box on my desk, I instead got them their own boxes from the office supply stash.

When someone else said that she was feeling horrible and debating going home, I lobbied loud and long for her to just go home. I know that burning sick time isn't fun, but I just didn't want to have to deal with the possibility of getting sick.

I especially didn't want to think about the idea of getting sick right before the first absolutely gorgeous weekend of the year. And I shrugged off the strange inability to focus at the end of the week - figuring that it was caused by the subject matter that I was editing.

This morning, after doing some quick spring garden prep, I came in with itchy eyes, a runny nose, and blotchy skin from my wrists to my elbows. Nope - not a cold. Just an allergic reaction to the ornamental grasses I was cutting back. (It happens every year.)

But, as the afternoon wore on, I felt more and more tired. I napped for over an hour, but still couldn't get my energy back. I blamed the Benadryl (taken to combat the allergic reaction to the grass), and slammed back some caffeine.

Then Christopher and I started to get ready to go out tonight - to our first outdoor Saturday evening event of the season. Glorious weather - in the upper 60s, with not a hint of rain (or snow). And Christopher looked over at me and said "Maybe you should just stay home."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to put up a protest and prove that I was fine to go out. I did pout and whine a little, but that kind of took it out of me. So I begrdugingly agreed and sent him on his way before putting my pajamas on.

Spring fever - in any form - sucks.