Took a sick day yesterday.
The details are unpleasant and can be elided. Basically, 48-hour crud. I pushed myself through the first day but said "hell with it" on the second.
Woke up at 5 am; Claudia found me when she came downstairs just after 6:30. She instantly realized something was not right, since I am never up before her. It's like seeing a fish floating on its side, or a cat eating grass... the animal is behaving in a deeply wrong way.
I stayed up through the morning routine of getting the boys fed/dressed/out the door, then went back to bed around 9. Slept until 1:30. Got up and wandered around for an hour or two, then went back to bed again. Slept until 6. Stayed up through dinner and bedtime, went back to bed a bit after midnight (normal time for me), and slept until breakfast. Claudia, bless her, just kept on keeping on.
And now I feel so much better. Not 100%, but getting there.
There's not a lot else to tell, except that I wish I'd been in better shape mentally, because being at home on a work day was interesting. Claude was busy busy. I read some books in bed. The boys were loud. The sun came in the bedroom window at a funny angle. Oh, and I'm almost well rested today. Sleeping all day will do that, sometimes. (And sometimes it just makes you jet-lagged and punchy.)
...I'm not sure this sort of "daily minutia" stuff counts as a proper blog post. Hm.