Hey there, internet people. This post is actually prompted by a debilitating experience other than being sick, one which I like to call “*#$@ I think I broke my foot!” You see, I stubbed my toe pretty freaking hard on the door frame and the entire side of my foot is now bruised to the point where it hurts to walk. And yet, off I hobbled to my job, limping along on the unbruised side of my foot looking appropriately pathetic.

This got me thinking about the difference between being sick or injured when you’re a kid and being sick or injured when you’re an adult. If I was still in elementary or middle school, hurting my foot would just be an awesome excuse to stay at home and lay on the couch, having my homework brought to me by some neighborhood kid and being waited on by my parents–chicken soup, 7up and Wendy’s Frosties galore. Likewise with being sick.

This is how I nursed my foot.

It’s not like feeling sick is fun. But as a kid it was at least an excuse to curl up on the couch. watching TV or one of my sick day movies (such as The Sound of Music and Anastasia, etc). Now that I’m “all grown up” being sick just means I have to try and push through, no matter how gross or incapable of walking I feel. It becomes a matter of deepest contemplation, where I have to think “How sick do I feel?” I add up how many hours of work I’d miss if I called in and think things like “Do I feel $35 sick? Is it worth it?”

Similarly, class isn’t just a matter of doing worksheets that are so easy I could probably figure them out without a word from the teacher. It’s missing lectures that are impossible to make up, possibly meaning a few questions that I won’t know the answer to on a test. Of course, there’s always borrowing notes… but what if I don’t trust anyone in that class to take decent notes?

Maybe that’s me over thinking things. But I think we can all agree that, as you get older, things like being sick become more and more of a hassle as you have more and more responsibilities you need to take care of on a day to day basis. Sometimes, when I’m sick enough that I stop caring about the money or the day of class I’ll miss, I just curl up and wish I could still have my mom bring me home Wendy’s and feel sorry for me, like when I was a kid. Surely I’m not the only one who thinks that way… right?