Calling in Sick

I may need to take a sick day tomorrow.

I started coming down with the sore-throat-cold stuff last evening, but breakfast this morning seemed to put things right, and so after breakfast, I walked briskly towards my ride meeting place. I’d allowed fifteen minutes for the little trek, but six minutes away from our apartment, I saw a huge flock of birds headed over me. Remembering the months of childhood photos of me always–always–sporting an Orioles ball cap due to an unfortunate bird pooping incident, I reached into my bag for my hat.

It felt funny, for a hat, and in fact it wasn’t a hat. It was M’s keys and wallet, which she would need while I was gone. I turned around and speed-walked home. I ended up driving back down to the meeting place and getting there just in time.

This potentially poopy story actually has nothing to do with getting sick, or calling in sick. As I was thinking about calling in sick, though, I remembered Rick, with whom I mowed grass at a university one summer.

He was probably forty years old, and a very generous man. On my first hot day on the job, he bought me a sixty-four ounce Mt. Dew slushy. He also bought me a two-gallon water cooler, and lemons and sugar and ice, to make lemonade. “Work smarter, not harder,” he always said, although I would often find myself questioning his adherence to either option.

Anyway, towards the end of the summer, he met a woman online and fell head over heels for her. In fact, he drove most of the way across the country just to visit her. “Just between you and me,” he told me the week before, “I’m going to be out sick next week.”

Monday morning, sure enough, Rick was not there. My boss came out to where I was gassing up a mower. “Rick called in sick,” he said. “Left a message. Sounded like death. He’ll be out for a while, I guess.”

Now, out sick as I may tomorrow be–not my first choice, since not being at school is a whole lot more work than showing up–I need to decide how to order my students around. At the very least, I’ll post instructions on my classroom blog, for them to check and presumably follow. I’m tempted, too, to video myself giving the instructions and even reprimanding specific students for their predictably ornery behavior.

Or maybe I’ll just go in.