my stuff
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woe is me
Isn’t it amazing how such little people (as children) can make so much fecking noise (as foghorns)? I’m sitting at my table in the livingroom and the primary school across the road has just come out.
They’re making my head throb.
On Friday, I had set up an elaborate plan to ensure that I could take Monday off as a sick day. I have very little holidays left for the rest of the year and I knew that the weekend I was about to slink into was going to be MASSIVE which meant that the need to have Monday off would be IMPERATIVE. Not so important as to justify taking a whole day out of my holiday entitlement, but enough to make me a lying scumbag.
You probably don’t approve of sick days. I don’t either. If I was in a team that meant someone else would be picking up my workload then I’d never do it. I’m not in a team. No workload will be picked up. No. I will go in tomorrow and I will have twice the work to do. That is my burden to bare.
Anyway. The irony is that I am actually ill. All day yesterday I thought I had hayfever and spent a large portion of my day popping hayfever tablets. I went to bed very early, after a long day being with Bandito’s relatives and getting excited about the holiday they’ve booked for us as a surprise (and paid for too!) and I thought I would be right as rain in the morning, I even thought I’d save my sick day for another more important day, but alas and alack, I was struck down by some strange, horrible bug thing. I have incredibly swollen glans, a very stuffed up nose, a headache and a sore back.
I slept for 15 hours straight. See? I am ill.
So, I am going back to bed now.
Night night.
3:31 pm - 12 June 2006
