I feel a little better. I don’t feel perfect, but better. My teeth feel weird and my lips are dry. I have post barf-face right now. (I’m pretty). It’s time to try some water and I’m starving but food is probably not a good idea (yet). It’s such an odd feeling—to be hungry after you spend hours seeking out and getting rid of all the food in your body. But I am hungry. Work called, I’ll be laying out the 250 page book from home. Good times.
Work? You’re sick. Fuck work.
tell that one to the boys….
They think that 98 precent of all sicknesses are just hangovers. And even though this is not a hangover, they will accuse me of such tomorrow. Best to just work and be done with it. :)
I find in situations like that, I prefer to drag myself to the office and actually vomit on the floor. Sends a message.
when doesn’t vomit send a message though?…
and more importantly when does it send a good message?…
you make a really strong point, there.
My favourite is when you call in sick, because you are really, truly sick, and since you don’t have a history of calling in sick often, you’d think that your boss would just say something nice, but no, they say, “Oh, you’re sick NOW? We’re understaffed and you know how busy it gets! Oh, we’ll make do somehow, if you really can’t come in.” Every fucking time at one of my past jobs.
The last time someone pulled that on me, I told them that if my presence was of that much importance to the company, I would expect to see my raise reflected in my next paycheck.
That’s good…I’m going to remember that.