Where have I been?
I don't know. Sick. Tired. Sick.
Like I was in the middle of a company dinner and I had to run out mid toast to be sick in the bathroom.
It's a damn good thing I have good health insurance now so going to a doctor is not a concern. It's not even expensive. Twenty five dollars for a visit and ten dollars for my medicine. That's a pretty good deal, if you ask me.
There's a new rule at work that if we're going to call in sick we have to call the owner himself on his personal cell phone and tell him, and then he'll call whoever needs to know.
Well, after leaving the dinner early and being sick all the next day (which happened to be my day off), I was still sick on Thursday. But the idea of calling the owner was so horrifying, not only because he's the big boss but also because I tend to cry when I describe what feels wrong in my body, that I decided it was better to go to work anyway and just get sent home.
It was brilliant. I went to work in a sweatshirt and jeans, stayed for thirty minutes, and had a coworker take me home with no fuss, and I did not have to call the owner. That's the way to do it, you know. Don't call in. Go to work and then just have Manager Man send you home.
If I'm ever feeling sick again I will do that.
I've missed you guys, but I haven't caught up on posts. It seems everybody keeps living their lives without me. It's a little disappointing. I kind of hoped that when I disappeared the whole world stopped functioning until I came back again. But it seems you guys are still up and functioning. Way to crush my dreams, guys.
Seriously, though. I fully intend to get back into the thick of this particular blogosphere as soon as possible. Which means after I'm finished changing my sister's paper. Second one, you know, and she hasn't improved. It's a nightmare. In fact, I'm supposed to be editing now but I can't make sense of this one opening sentence and it's baffling. I can't move forward with the paragraph until I know what it means. And I have no idea what it means.
I may not be the best writer in the world, but I'm pretty sure my thoughts are always coherent, at the very least, even if they don't make actual sense. (For instance, I'm terrified of sharks appearing in swimming pools. I express the idea well, but it still doesn't make sense.)
Anyway, I'm going back to the paper now. So...you know. Thanks for still being around?