Coming into work this morning after being out for most of last week, thought I’d been rash and/or way too optimistic as I panted, flushed and dizzy on the second-floor landing of the capitol stairs. Was seriously thinking about turning around and getting back on the MARTA train home, except I was too exhausted to make the trek back to the station. So I dragged myself to my desk, figuring it was my only option–regardless of whether it was in order to tough it out for the day or to recuperate enough to make the commute back home.
Found a big ole bill awaiting editing in my intray and started in on it. Couple hours later, felt much better. Couple hours after that, finished my editing pass and realized I hadn’t taken any pain pills in almost 12 hours, and that I felt the best I had in days.
I’ve since had to pop said pain pills, but, nevertheless, this was a very good reminder that coming into work is good for me. Takes my mind off the pain, keeps my brain actively engaged doing something other than going “ow” and feeling sorry for itself.
Still, I’m glad to be heading home now.