Sick leaves, the sequel

I woke up coughing on Saturday, coughing harder on Sunday, and feverish on Monday. So, perhaps for the first time in my working life, I took a day off because I'm sick.

Slightly ironic, since it's been exactly a year since I started working.

Well, to be precise, I only took a day-off from being in the office. I figured I'll work at home since I don't have anything better to do in the first place. It's an option anyway, although it felt much more complicated when I was already availing of it, as if the company wanted me to have a hard time whenever I do stuff. Then again, if your life revolves around searching for stuff online to bluff about, well, why should having to deal with people who shun you be a part of it?

That is one advantage of working from home. You don't have to deal with these people: the pieces of paper that suddenly show up on your desk without an explanation, or those glimpses of how my life should've been in college. I was texting Kris - the only person who seemingly acknowledged my working at home, to her credit - with a towel wrapped around myself, as I was going to take a bath before my phone started singing. Apart from that, nothing much has really changed, since I've always considered myself alone - or, dare I say, independent? - for the majority of my year at work.

And then there are the conveniences being at home gives you. I have this urge to finish everything before the clock hits six when I'm at the office. Here, it's what Jayvee basically calls "flexible time" - obviously a dream since I still have to wait for the clock to hit six before I go home, even if I finished everything four hours before. For some reason, I feel much freer to be myself at work: I can laugh out loud with whatever comes up on The Fashion Show, I can dance to whatever I'm listening to, rather than just tap my feet; and I can cuss at myself when I do a little boo-boo on the stuff I'm typing in. Everyone did say you should be quiet.

And then there are the things you're not used to doing on a workday. I don't reheat my lunch. I don't cook my rice. I don't open the door when my sister arrives earlier than usual from her classes. I don't pay our monthly garbage collection fee. Well, at least not when I'm at work. My body clock did feel a little confused, actually, especially considering that I am still sick: I finished everything yesterday at five and felt so dizzy I had to sleep. Or, my mother wanted me to sleep, because I still wanted my personal time on the PC. One point for misplaced dedication.

But I appreciate the ability to walk around more often. The back row's presence also meant I leave my desk less often, especially when they're out having lunch together (and, in my paranoid mindset, making fun of my inability to admit my feelings). Usually my water bottle's left unfilled, but over the past two days I've had more water than I usually have, and I've walked to the kitchen many times just to shake stuff off me. Oh, right, I've been working at home for two days now. Yesterday was me at my sickest, with a fever nobody could figure out, which explains all the fluid consumption and all the toilet trips. This morning, my fever was gone but it was a horrible case of the snuffles. I actually felt better before nine, but rather than risk being late - and taking back all of those text messages - well, there's only one alternative.

Well, while it's better editing your photos with Photoshop than with whatever Microsoft had built in - thank you for your sneakiness, GIMP Portable! - it feels a little weird being rattled out of the stuff you've been used to. Sure, it's a no-brainer half-bluffing, or complaining about the lack of fashion knowledge on a fashion reality show, but it's as if you're doing something wrong, and - maybe it's my paranoid self again - it's as if they'll take you down for doing something that others have done before. As if you were smirking from your responsibilities - I literally got worse after yesterday, after all, so where's my medical insurance card? That, and perhaps that achingly (and seriously) annoying coincidence that's happened with the three days I've been away from the office over the past week.

Oh well. I just hope nobody messes this one thing up - or, in other words, please answer my emails. Happy first anniversary, Niko. You said you'll be here for only six months, and yet you're celebrating a year, or whatever comes close to celebrating.

Marking. Commemorating. Not fondly. There.

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