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2006-05-19 - 7:35 a.m. THE HORROR I feel like doo doo, baby. I have been sick for three days, and I feels me some bad, yeah. I find myself feeling very hostile that my illnesses are brushed off by my superior at work...I am encouraged to come in anyway, always, regardless of how bad I feel. I am made even angrier by the fact that I follow the directive without argument and show up like a fucking sheep when it is perfectly within me to say, No, dude, I'm NOT coming in, much like YOU don't come in when YOU don't feel well. I just don't. I always think I will need to save that for a day when I need it more. And anyway, I'm a deejay, for crying out loud. It's not brain surgery, and when it's time to talk I sound just as well and chipper as I do on a good day. But I'm still irked. Even when I manage to score a day off, I still have to keep my children's schedules...so there's really no rest in it. My oldest, though, has been getting increasingly more helpful. Yesterday, he "took care of me" as I lay trying to die with a head full of goo, frequent onslaughts of helpless sneezing, a raging fever, pounding headache and an increasingly sore (and now virtually skin-free) set of nostrils. He kept an eye on his little sister so I could sort of drift in and out of consciousness, he piled covers on me to try to help me get warm, and, at one point, he brought in a cup of hot peppermint tea that he made for me. I love my boy. I was sure to compliment him on his treatment of me; I think the pampering made me feel that much better. I am a person who appreciates that kind of thing, and it's been a while since it's been done. I'm raising a good kid, even if he is prone to spontaneous, embarrassing, gyrating nipple dances. So I had a guest at my house. I can't remember if I told him about this diary or not, so I can't go into too much detail but let's just say you haven't lived until you've witnessed a full grown man dancing and singing badly while drunkenly and vigorously playing air guitar to HIS OWN COLLECTION of Rick Springfield cd's. Yes, that's what I said. I remember saying "Wow" a lot, and Wilberteets was more than amused. Egad. It was the kind of performance that makes you never want to drink again. Ok, I feel like shite. I do NOT want to go today and I am going to purposely be as useless as possible. Oh, my aching, bald nostrils. ::sigh:: free hit counter � � 6 comments so far |