Tuesday is my day off from my regular work. That means I usually work on my knitting patterns, submissions, and other designer work that needs to be done, or should be done. I usually take a break in the middle of the day and meet a friend and the two of us go out hiking in the woods with our dogs. Not today.
A member of my family developed runny nose, and a bit of cough and sneezing over the weekend. Under normal circumstances it looks like a regular cold and we would think nothing of it. But things are not normal these days. Coronavirus runs wild through the world, entire nations are under quarantine and it seems that nobody knows what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, or even next month. So this said member of my family stayed home, just to play it safe. Just to make it clear, nobody in my family has travelled anywhere but school, work, and few local places, no further than twenty miles within the past two weeks.
This morning I woke up and my coffee didn't taste right. The same kind of coffee was just fine yesterday. This usually means that I might be coming down with something. So I decided to have a sick day, to rest, and get better.
I remember when I was child and had a sick day, it meant to spend the day in bed, reading books, sleeping, drinking hot tea with lemon and honey, eating my favorite food, and even being allowed to watch TV during the day.
As an adult, my sick day went so far like this: take the dog for a walk (he doesn't understand that I am having a sick day), make a pot of tea with lemon and honey, serve it to the other member of the family who is still under weather, clean and sanitize the bathroom (again, the last time I did it on Sunday), wash the dishes, clean the kitchen counters, do the laundry, strip and wash the beds (just in case, the last time I did it was last Sunday), start cooking the soup, make blueberry muffins. The dog needed another walk, he just woke up refreshed from his morning nap. I cancelled my hike with the friend, thinking it might be better not to pass on whatever is trying to knock me down. The other dog I walk every weekday needed her walk. The beds needed to be done with the freshly washed bedding. Dinner needs to be cook.
I have not touch anything related to my knitwear designer work, but somehow my sick day doesn't look like a rest day to me at all. I managed to have a cup of tea with honey and lemon. Maybe I will have another one later in the evening, when everyone is fed, dishes are done, dog is asleep, and everyone else is settled for the evening.
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