A few days ago, I began to feel sick. Although sometimes, for me, it’s difficult to tell if I’m really feeling sick or if I’m just more lethargic about life than usual. Maybe an illness is keeping me in bed today…or maybe I just don’t feel like getting up. It can be tough to tell. And that brings us to what today’s blog is about, the distinct point between illness and laziness that I’d like to call ‘The Bueller Line.’
Anyways, if you’re anything like me, then all your memories of sickness are glowing. They’re great, wonderful memories. To me, sickness equals staying in bed all day, watching movies, having people bring you stuff, and (the best part) not having to do anything productive at all. Sickness, perhaps, is the closest I’ll ever come to having freedom. True freedom. Did I have to go out and earn a living today? No. While I had a fever, did I have to clean the apartment or wash any dishes? Absolutely not. All I had to do was stay alive, and nobody even complained or called me a loser.
I mean, my fondness for being sick is probably because I’ve never really been sick – seriously sick. I suppose if someone has cancer and is getting chemo, then illness probably isn’t so great. But when we’re talking about a cold or the fever, then sickness rocks.
And this is what I’ve been going through the last couple days. I’ve gone into work but then it’s straight back into bed, where I can watch all the YouTube and RedTube I want and life is a dozen roses. I’ve let responsibility slide in favor of sleep. Although I did go to the bar one night, but that was during a thin sliver of time in which I felt recovered, which proved fleeting and wore off as soon as the beer did.
Eventually, I know I’m going to hit The Bueller Line. This is the point where I become sure, without any doubt, that I’m not sick anymore. That I’ve shaken my illness. However, it’s very conceivable that I’ll continue to be lazy and do nothing. Hence, I’ve changed from being sick into being Bueller, a responsibility-avoiding doofus that would rather bullshit everyone then act like a grown person. I generally know when I’ve crossed this line. Guilt begins to creep in. I force myself to get dressed and I’ll even cook my own soup as opposed to having my girlfriend bring it to me.
How a person acts when approaching The Bueller Line says a lot about that person. Some people never even get to it, leaping up and mowing the lawn as soon as they’re physically able to. These are life’s real winners, the people I envy and look up to. They might even end up sick again do to premature lawn mowing, but still I admire them. I think most people cross the line slightly, wanting to wallow in sickness for just a little bit more, before their pride and sense of maturity catches them and makes them return to their jobs. Most people have that moment of truth when they sigh and shower at six-thirty in the morning and start getting ready for work while fondly yearning for the sick days of yore.
As I write this, I feel I’m just getting over my sickness. Tomorrow I will be ready to dive head first into life. Real life. Out of bed life. The kind of life that might not be as fresh or as sweet as you want it to be but it’s what you’ve got, like when you’re on a bus and a little girl hands you a warm, soft Gummi bear.