The Impression That I Get

It’s always very frustrating for me when I catch a cold. I tend to get sick just at the wrong time, and I’ve noticed that over the years, I seem to become a complete wimp. Sure, I’ve never been a really good patient, but now, I’m a lousy patient and a bit “woe as me” oriented.

Last week started pretty well for me: I picked up some CV photos Monday after work, and that was after having submitted an online application at a firm located just north of Frankfurt.
I was feeling pretty good about my progress, and later mapped out the rest of my week while sipping a glass of wine, when I suddenly sneezed three times.

“Oh shit,” I thought. “I’m getting sick.”

I briefly thought I was going to escape unscathed on Tuesday morning, my luck ran out just after lunch. The congestion was starting, a box of Kleenex was consumed, and I knew I was headed for crap.

Later that evening, I managed to have a cup of tea, but was really starting to feel poorly.

A night’s sleep helped marginally, but as I waited on the U-bahn on Wednesday morning, I realized that I had a slight fever. I used good judgment and went back home. After a quick call to my boss, I logged on to work, and suffered from a bad cold in the comfort of my kitchen, managing to use a couple of boxes of Kleenex over the course of the day.

Thursday was a repeat of Wednesday, though I didn’t bother to try and go to the U-bahn.

Friday, I did manage to get back into the office, but was glad for 5pm to come, giving another couple of days for me to finish recuperating.

The quiet time at home during last week was interesting. Fewer emails were coming in, and the phone didn’t ring like it used to. Indeed, things are settling down for me in a hurry around the office. I even noticed that things seemed a bit different once I was back in the office on Friday.

I know that this is normal when your ride is finishing. Typically, your colleagues will have less to do with you, since you aren’t really involved in things any more. However, in the transition period, it’s always a bit awkward, since you’re sort of there, but unneeded. No one can actually say, “bugger off,” but their actions sort of imply that. It’s nothing personal, of course, but it sucks.

Because I was already feeling crap with a cold, and irritated because I didn’t feel well enough to put a lot of effort into a job search, I felt a bit distant from things last week. Things turned a bit surreal when my father skyped me; we had a good conversation, but it could have been a bit better had he decided to wear more than just a pair of underwear.

I was delighted to test my new mobile out on Friday evening, though at first I didn’t recognize the alert tone for the SMS that I received. I was momentarily confused with the contents of the text, but a quick trip to the dictionary helped. However, why do Americans call it a ladybug, and everyone else (in English) a ladybird?

The weekend was spent in further recuperation, watching a few silly movies and favorite sitcoms and resting as much as possible. It was time well spent, as today I’m feeling ever better.

Sure, I’ve got a bit of catching up to do on my, “what are you going to do with your life now, B-bry?” plan, but at the same time that I feel like saying something like, “ni puta idea,” I feel like I can also say, “Alles wird gut.”

At least, that’s the impression that I get.

Keep the faith.
bryan