TAKING A SICK DAY TODAY. I woke up this morning feeling a cold coming on. I've been trying to get more sleep, but Sunday was munged by nightmares and my awakening at 4 a.m. with no chance of returning to sleep, and Tuesday night was a justifiable late night due to a mass expedition to The Dark Knight. Though the movie ended at 10 p.m. and I was able to get home at a somewhat reasonable 10:30, I returned a call to my parents, during which I discussed the wonders of the film and various work issues. I was then drawn to the Internet and its many spoiler-laden discussions, and suddenly . . . it was midnight.
I'd awakened the past couple of days with a sore throat, and when this morning made it a third, I decided to pull the plug on an early gym trip as well as work. Because I have to blast the AC here to get it from its wall mount in the living room to my bedroom (around a bend), by 2 or 3 in the morning, it gets distinctly chilly. (O, for a modern unit with a built-in timer!) Despite recent disillusionment at work, I do have a couple of pressing tasks I don't want to leave too long. But with the possibility of this either developing fully into a cold, or of sucking down worse pathogens from the shit-for-brains who insist on coming into work sick, I figured why risk catching something that would kill the rest of the week and possibly fuck up the weekend?
I did begin to work off some of the fat I picked up over the weekend, but still felt somewhat weak and flabby compared to a couple of weeks ago. I would love to go over to the gym this afternoon and at least get 20 minutes on an elliptical trainer or treadmill, maybe an abbreviated version of the leg/shoulder workout I'd planned to do this morning. I feel well now, somewhat tired from lack of doing anything besides balance my checkbook, pay some bills, vacuum the floors, and clean the bathroom . . . which makes this a sick day of epic productivity if you ask me. If I feel well at 2:30, I may scoot over to the gym for a token stretch and some putt-putt on the cardio floor.
I had another piece of evidence that I've lost some adaptation to the junk I'd been eating. I figured it was more convenient to grab dinner at the mall that houses the movie theater, and — given the choice of having an off-program dinner, or getting hungry halfway through the film and eating the junk from the concession stand — I was better off eating on the time schedule, if not the exact food one. So I grabbed a burger and fries from Johnny Rockets.
This proved touch-and-go. The burger took some time to get comfortable, if you get my meaning, and for a short stretch, I wondered if I would keep it. My eating choices had been spotless earlier that day, so this was the first pure crap I'd eaten all day. Perhaps I have lost my appetite for greasy food. I had two charcoal-grilled burgers at Bill's over the weekend, but with thinner buns, less fat, no toppings save cheese and some ketchup, and no fries. I don't think it was the influx of simple carbs that made me queasy. I'd had spaghetti on Sunday and Monday nights at my parents' house, in addition to the bread-based filling in the bracciole, with no similar feelings.
With a business trip coming later in the month, I've got some planning to do during the two days I'll be away from my usual feedbag. I can tote some things out there (nuts, jerky, protein bars), but the hotel food and whatever sludge they get for lunch may not be all that helpful. So I'll just have to run up to this travel with exceptional work on both the exercise and food counts, and trust myself to stay on track when I return. Though I do have to smile at seeing that my body really wants me to eat better food. Nice to have a built-in fan.