I woke up this morning at 3:30, and I felt like a million bucks.

Which is at is should be, since I went to bad last night at 4pm (having snoozed on the bus and the Metro most of the way home), having been sick for the last couple of days.

Saturday, at the Bookstore, I had a bit of a sore throat, but I wasn’t too concerned about it. Then I woke up in the middle of the night unable to swallow without incredible pain. Fortunately, some orange juice and theraflu put things well enough for me to sleep, but as I still felt pretty lousy the next morning, I called out from work.

And, look: I hate calling out from work. Especially my part-time job, where there’s no vacation time and work missed is work unpaid. I also hate doing it because, look, most days, the store is operating with just enough people to cover all areas. And for reasons passing understanding, management isn’t gung-ho about trying to call people in to cover open shifts — which is also mind boggling. In no restaurant or retail job I’ve ever had will management not call everyone they can, “Hey, want to work late tonight?”

Anyway, because I felt better Sunday evening, I went to my day job Monday morning. And I felt okay until Monday afternoon when I became nauseas. So I called out — again. I managed to make it through the rest of my day, and went home and to sleep.

And voila, woke up feeling like a million bucks — like I’d been reborn, and the whole world was awoken anew to me, with opportunities for the taking. It didn’t hurt that the weather was warm enough that only a sweater was required for walking out of my building, and I was tempted to walk the long way to the Metro station (although I didn’t).

But all of this feeling of renewal and rebirth …

It’s tempered by coming into work this morning to find out that one of my colleagues was fired yesterday after I left. He started two weeks after me.