I'm taking a sick day. My head hurts and my nose is stuffed up and my throat hurts and I'd love to go to bed, but when I do all my symptoms get worse. So I'm taking a sick day.
There's not a whole lot of difference between a sick day and any other day when you're a stay at home mom and it's the middle of winter, but it is distinguished from all other days as follows: I am wearing sweats instead of real clothes. I did not do my hair. I am not going outside, not even for choir practice. I will not be feeling guilty about any housework I do not do. I will eat for comfort (hello, soup).
The bad news is that I still have to do laundry, although I don't think I'll fold it, and I have company tomorrow evening so I'd better get better today so I can catch up with all the housework tomorrow. The other bad news is that Delphine does not honour my sick day and still needs changing, feeding, playing with and cuddling at the usual times. She is the worst boss I've ever had; I haven't had a day off since May 10. The benefits are good, though.