I’ve forgotten what grass feels like on bare feet. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to drive with the windows down and the wind blowing in my hair. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to walk into the kitchen and smell fresh bread.
I walked out of my room for a jug of water (stay hydrated, campers) to see the usual flurry of movement. People going about their day, some hurried by deadlines, others slowed by lingering sickness.
It’s always a weird feeling being sick. Because when you’re sick, the rest of the world keeps moving. Nothing stops for you to get better. People still have work they have to do, assignments they have to hand in. Just because you’re out of it doesn’t mean anything waits.
Due dates simply get closer and closer as you spend more and more hours in bed, and your to-do list at work just gets longer as there’s another day of you not being able to complete anything already on it.
The bin is filled with tissues and then it’s emptied and so the cycle continues. The jug of water is drunk and then it’s refilled and so the cycle continues. Plans are cancelled then rescheduled then cancelled again and how many times do we reschedule before just giving up completely?
I can hear people mowing the grass outside. What does freshly mown grass smell like again? Ah, the smell of hay fever. I would rather that to this sickness. Am I hot or cold? I don’t know anymore, so I just curl up into the blanket and tell myself I’ll shower later.
Time doesn’t stop for anyone, and neither does the world. People will always have things to do, regardless of how sick you are.
Rest up, campers,