I got sick (again) a few days ago. This morning, after a grand total of one hour of sleep, I got up to go to work and the moment my feet touched the ground I thought "Nope, absolutely not." There was no way I would be able to function.
I called my school and the principle immediately ordered me to stay home (ahh the joys of being a French civil servant. I love being reminded that I'm in a country where taking days off when you're too sick to move is acceptable).
I don't know if it's the pollution (Grenoble has a lot) or my lifestyle (see: lazy) or lack of hippy food, but I've been getting sick a lot here. I got a really bad cold right before leaving for Spain which left me useless for nearly a week, when I was in Poland I caught something that made my stomach churn for days, when I first got here I immediately got sick... I think this is something like my fourth or fifth time laying in bed with a mountain of snotty tissues piling up on my floor (sorry, gross realities of the human experience).
You know what, now that I think about it, maybe it's because I work with children all day, and kids are gross. Sure they're cute, but they stick their hands everywhere and touch everything. Or it could be the insane amount of time I spend holding rails on public transportation. Or living in a small apartment with four other people. I don't know.
As I try to start organizing myself to go home, I'm torn between being happy to go back and sad to be leaving. But I'm definitely excited to go back and get healthy again. Maybe I'll even start moving my butt again and, what's the word again? Oh yeah, exercising.
Okay, enough self-pity. Time to go back to laying down and being useless.
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