I got up at the usual time this AM feeling a bit woozy from the cold I've been battling over the past few days. I took my morning shower and ate my breakfast, but after just a few minutes it was clear to me that if I were to have gone into work today, I'd not only be a useless specimen, but I wouldn't last the day. I called my boss and told her I was taking a sick day, and went back to bed.
It's strange. Over the years I've often been asked by co-workers if I won't admit to calling in sick when I'm not. Of course, it would be lunacy to admit to such a thing, but the simple answer is that I have never called in sick just to avoid going into work. If anything, I've gone in when I shouldn't have been there, and risked infecting my peers with whatever virus was afflicting me. I guess calling in to work 'sick,' instead of 'tired' or 'hungover' or 'lazy' is so common that most people can't believe that everyone doesn't do it. In any case, although I won't pass judgement on those who do, I have not. When I call in sick, I am sick. End of story.
So, I've been lying around all day, feeling punk, sucking on the Zinc/Gluconate/Glycine-laced Cherry-Flavored Cold-Eze lozenges I bought, fully aware that I've probably been duped by the language on the package that promises to be "safe and effective in reducing the severity of [cold] symptoms by 42% and duration by 3 to 4 days in two double blind placebo controlled studies." Yeah, sure they do.
Oh well, they don't taste all that bad, and they do offer relief to my sore throat. I suspect I'll be over the grippe in the same length of time as always: about a week to ten days, regardless what I do.