It's a balmy 32º (feels like 24º) according to MSN Weather, which usually means it is several degrees cooler at my house. Snow is falling again and beginning to stick to rooftops. I woke up this morning feeling...well...off. You know the feeling when you wonder, am I sick? Am I getting sick? But, despite feeling bad, since you aren't puking, and don't have mucus escaping through facial orifices, you go to work anyway, hoping you are simply being paranoid and that if not, that no one will catch something from you. Never mind that the office has been a breeding ground of germs from other sick people coming in and out, yours would no doubt be the toxic ones.
Anyway, I got up (late) and dragged my dressed and groomed but unfed self into work. I was pretty sure I should eat something so I stopped at a drive-through and picked up a grease sandwich. Got to work and upon opening the bag and feeling a protest in my gut decided that I wasn't quite ready to eat. The boss had brought in some lovelty pumpkin bread, but even that was giving me that airsick, carsick, seasick feeling. Not a good sign.
When do you give up? When do you decide not to be a trooper? I've never had much admiration for those folks who work through the flu, nasty horrid colds, intestinal bugs, etc., displaying their mettle but undermining my health and that of the others in the office. If you think you might be contagious, isn't it the kind thing, the loving thing, not to pass it along? Or do we so value that type-A driven person that we strive to keep on plugging no matter what?
By 9:30 I was pretty sure I was sick, and by 10 I had passed on my interviews, cleared my desk and tended the fires that needed tending and was on my way home. And here I've been, asleep for the last 5 hours, a sure sign of something not being right.
Where do you fall when it comes to the sometimes opposing responsibilities toward your job and to the health of your co-workers?
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