On colds

Friday rolled around with a cold that just kept coming. I tried warding it off with cough drops and cold sprays to stop my nose from running, but I was the kind of slow and stupid at work you only get when you're sick. I kept dropping stuff and fucking up, and broke two glasses on two separate occasions, which was both clumbsy and embarrassing. Today I feel even worse than I did yesterday, but I still have to kick into gear and go back to work since no-one else can fill in for me, if only for a few hours. I wish I could've slept some more. I felt like roadkill.

I was really supposed to work from 1 p.m. today, but I managed to get it moved until 4 p.m. Technically I probably shouldn't be working at all, and Mafune asked me last night if I really thought I could work, but there was no-one to fill in for me, so if only for a few hours, I needed to go to work and pretend I'm a healthy person through the magic that is makeup, cough drops and copious amounts of coffee. I could've flat out said no, but then I would've put her in a really shitty position, and as long as I can stand and move around relatively freely I don't want to let her down or show weakness. Pride is a stupid thing. Luckily our new roomie (well, I say new, but he moved in several months ago) just came home from his Switzerland vacation today and fed me chicken tortillas and coffee. If that's not a cure-all, then I don't know what is. I almost turned down a second tortilla out of pride again, until I reasoned with myself that I was still hungry, yet too feeble to go to the store or cook anything on my own, and if kindness is offered I should take it. I need to get better at accepting help.

Luckily everything was really calm and I could leave at 8, which I did without a word of protest. Even just four hours made me extremely tired. I headed over to a café not too far from work and sat down, snivveling with the biggest cup of hot chocolate they had, reading my book and just trying to not feel so much like a shadow of a person. Man, so far things have been rough this year.

I wrote a post on facebook a few days ago about how I hoped that the first week of 2014 wouldn't be indicative of the whole year, as so far most things that have happened this year have been bad and exhausting. Some friends commented on it in their usual cheery way, but what really stuck with me was that my oldest cousin, whom I rarely speak to anymore but is still my favorite cousin on my mom's side of the family (probably because he reminds me so much of my brother), commented, saying: "It will be okay. I promise." In the short time it took to read those sentences, I suddenly felt completely calm and at ease. I've never had a reason to doubt that man in my life, so for some reason it would seem that he's one of few people I trust completely. Lots of people have told me it will be okay, but I rarely find comfort in that as most people don't know shit, but this was different. It's strange how words sound different depending on who they come from. It's nice to feel like you can trust in something though. It's nice to know that the world isn't coming to an end.