C was sick on Thursday and Friday of last week.
When Monday morning came around, I could not bring myself to go to work. I just didn't want to go...so I didn't. I guess I was really having a case of the Mondays. This particular case of the Mondays carried over into Tuesday.
Wednesday morning comes around, and I lie in bed, wide awake, convincing myself that I need to go to work. That it won't be so bad. And in fact, I am at work, and it isn't so bad. It's not bad at all, actually. Hell, I can write in my blog from work, so it can't be that bad!
Anyway, I had too much time off, and that lead to too much time to think. I am terrible company for myself. I managed to depress myself every day, so I think taking two mental health days was more detrimental to my mental health then not taking them. Still, as contradictory as it seems, I am glad I took those days off.
Of course, not coming into work meant I didn't check my e-mail for over a week. EEK! I was more than a little overwhelmed to find over 120 new e-mails. Happily, one was from a BR, a good friend of mine. There is something about an e-mail from him that always cheers me up. He was responding to the news B and I broke up, and was very supportive of me. We used to hang out, and I miss talking to him...
On other news, I missed a phone call to my cell phone last night. It was from a restricted number, which made my stomach aflutter. B would always call me from a restricted number; was it him? I doubt it, but the thought of talking to him made me feel anxious. The prospect of talking to him is slim to none, but the thought of it made me feel sick. Not happy, not excited, but scared. Not exactly what I thought my reaction would be, but I think it's a much healthier reaction: to be wary.
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