Sweet Diversion

I know that people have varying opinions on the flu shot.  Some say it is the equivalent of immortality.  Others believe it is death in a vial and the end of civilization as we know it.  I can understand both points of view and deny no one their right to tend to their health as they see fit.

That said, I just don't get as sick as I used to now that I submit my arm to the spike each year.  I can't say for certain that this magical injection fends off everything that comes at me while I slog my way through each school day.  In fact, I tend to think that this is me giving the shot superpowers that it doesn't possess.  I don't really care.  I just like not getting so sick all the time.  That is what we call, "the up side."

The down side is that, while I don't get horribly ill, I do get little bits and pieces of whatever is going around.  It used to be that I could predict the path that my illnesses would take.  First, I'd feel a general sense of malaise.  Next, the actual symptoms would arrive, typically in the form of snot.  Lots of it.  Finally, there would be great, whooping coughs which would startle all in my path and cause them to give me a very wide berth.  They would also start gently suggesting that I just go home before I spread the plague any further.

Now I have no idea what is going to happen.  Mostly, I find myself in the General Sense Of Malaise category and can only wait to see if it is going to get to the I Guess I'd Better Go Home phase.  It generally doesn't.  I usually just get better after that.  However, the GSOM is a rather tiresome thing and I miss being sent home sometimes.

I've been fiddling around with the idea of getting a cold lately.  But it just won't seem to bloom.  I'm tired and achy.  Sometimes I work up a sneeze.  My ears popped this morning when I was blowing my nose.  My throat is all itchy.  But, as of yet, no one has told me to go home.  Of course, this might be due to the fact that we only just picked up the pieces from the day I was out teaching a workshop last week.  However I can usually count on at least one of the more "motherly" types to step up to the plate when I am looking sickly and that hasn't happened.  Guess I'm looking just fine, darn it.

But I still think I might be sick.  A little bit, anyway.  Normally I am pretty jazzed about getting home.  Even if it is the day where I have to spend 45 minutes on the little exercise bike, I still prefer home to sitting in the car or being at work.  I don't tarry.  I wrap up the teaching day, point the car north and make haste.  I can knit upon the Happy Pink Sock while I ride the little bike, right?  Home is a good place and a one I'd like to see sooner rather than later.

Except today, I opted to stay behind a big truck rather than pass it.  I liked being behind this truck and liked the idea of telling people that I was behind this truck.  Further, I was hoping that this truck was going to my house and thought that I could cause it to do so through sheer force of will.  To do that, I needed to stay behind it. All thoughts of Happy Pink Socks and other home-based comforts were banished from my mind.  I was wholly absorbed with driving ten miles below the posted speed limit in order that I might remain right behind the truck.

It was a Lindt Chocolate truck.  And it did not go to my house.  Nor did it hit a bump and suddenly drop its load which would have fit nicely with the back-up scenario I developed during my extra long drive home today.  

Not rational.  Not reasonable.  Not conducive to getting those socks finished in a timely fashion.  Not the sort of thing that gets me back home and on the exercise bike like I'm supposed to be.

But I certainly think this pattern of sluggish logic fits nicely with the idea that I might be coming down with something.  If the sneezing and General Malaise don't make people send me home, perhaps my belief that I can cause chocolate to fly free from secured vehicles is enough to buy me a sick day.

I should really stop at the store tomorrow for some chocolate.  I'd hate to be stuck home sick without some of that and it's not like the trucks are cooperating...

SA