I doubt anyone really loves being sick, and, truth be told, right now I’m not really loving it, what with the “have to go to work” bit and the “medicine on an empty stomach makes me siiiiiiiickER” part.
But, in the evenings, I don’t really mind being sick. I came home from work yesterday and crashed on the the couch. And then, an hour later, when Bart left to scouts, I moved to the bed and slept straight through until I heard the door open two hours later when he returned. I didn’t feel bad for not making dinner. I didn’t feel badly about skipping the gym. And this morning I didn’t feel guilty for sleeping in an extra hour and a half.
Sometimes, it’s not so bad being sick.