Several friends and fellow bloggers have recently written about worshipping at the Foot of the Porcelain God. There's nothing worse than being sick. And it seems the older we get, the more unpleasant and exhausting it is. (Maybe it was unpleasant and exhausting when we were kids, but our memories were too short to remember then. At least, that's my theory anyway and I'm sticking with it.)
Being unemployed, though, has its advantages. I observed to a friend the other day that after reading about the illnesses of others, I realized, I haven't been sick once in the last nine months!
I don't say that to boast or rub my wellness in the faces of my friends who are suffering the indignities of retchedness. I say it merely to state that work is much more hazardous than I'd realized.
Don't worry, Mom! I'm not going to use it as a reason not to get a job. I'll take a bout with the flu or a cruddy cold any day over calls from my credit card company and dwindling bank accounts.