Listening Post: Sick day

A “Gunsmoke” rerun is best served with a grilled cheese sandwich and a mug of soup.

I’m writing today from the comfort of my couch at home. There is a book nearby, and a glass of water, and a box of tissues, and a baby blue fleece blanket, and a wide-screen TV. Through a combination of prolonged sleeplessness and massive amounts of cold remedy, I have achieved the level of serenity and detachment that I imagine is possessed by Macy’s parade balloons, as they loom benevolently above the streets of New York.

A sick day is one of the great under-appreciated pleasures. Not only is all work and strife turned over to a higher power (or at least to a co-worker), one has the house to oneself. You can watch what no one else likes to watch, listen to whatever you please, or just stare agog into space without anyone questioning your sanity.

The first day I ever stayed home from school with no one to nurse me, I discovered this love of solitude. Maybe that’s why I feel a sudden nostalgic urge for a grilled cheese sandwich, a mug of cream of tomato soup, and a black & white rerun of Gunsmoke. Looking all around, I find no one to say me nay.

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7 Comments on “Listening Post: Sick day”

  1. Chuck Cairns says:

    Feel better!

  2. Sunshine says:

    I’m sharing your misery…keeping Kimberly Clark in business1

  3. Rolene says:

    It’s one of the things you miss, once retired. You get sick, even pamper yourself, but it’s just not the same. Enjoy yours!

  4. Ted Mills says:

    For Dale: Years ago, folks in my workplace used to refer to”mental health days,” days off which someone would take when under stress and in need of a break. You don’t have to be bedridden for a mental health day.

  5. Cliff Meacham says:

    This one brings a smile to my face. As a retiree, I can enjoy the solitude you speak of (after a work-a-day world at GE for over 42 years0.

  6. Cris says:

    Hope you feel better soon, Dale. Or not…. How many days do you think you can get away with it?

  7. tootightmike says:

    My mother was a bear about claiming sickness. “If your sick enough to stay home, you’re sick enough to stay in bed.” she would say, and she meant it. No television, no radio…quiet as a morgue. We never wanted to try to fake it again.

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