When I woke this morning, I thought, "Hey, I feel a tiny bit better." I made it all the way to climbing the stairs at work and realized: Nope. This will not do. So I grabbed my work laptop and came home.

A year ago, six months ago, I'd have "pushed through" or whatever not-taking-care-of-myself nonsense I'd have used to tell myself I needed to stay at work even though I feel wretched.

Maybe by next time, I'll have learned to just call in sick and stay in bed. (Which, surely, is what the cat would have advised in the first place could he speak.)