In a devastating turn of events, I’ve officially contracted the plague (not actually officially, that would be a lot worse). I’m calling in sick to work and going back to bed. But I didn’t want to leave everyone hanging on how my Monday went, so here I am.
In a nutshell: My mom is an angel. My roommates are angels. My siblings are angels. I’m so blessed.
In a slightly longer nutshell: Perhaps the best part of my day was getting a call from my mom that afternoon– “We’re still on our way, we’re coming. I have a humidifier and all sorts of sicky helpful things for you.” (She listed them off, but that’s what they are). She didn’t get to stay for long, but it was enough. I love her. I went to work half hoping they’d send me home, which didn’t happen, but I did start to feel better as my shift went on (that was a tender mercy from God, I know).
By the time I got home, I was feeling well enough to eat too much and go to bed. It was a pretty good Monday, all told. And then I woke up with the plague.
Final Verdict: It totally worked–it got me through my Monday–but it didn’t carry over. Maybe I need more regular dosages of mom visits to keep me going.