Today I called in sick to work.
I said that I'd thrown out my back, which, if anyone from work is reading, is absolutely and thoroughly TRUE. Although if in an entirely theoretical scenerio someone were to be dishonest and lie about such things, back pain is remarkably hard to disprove. You don't have to fake-cough or come up with an elaborate description of what caused the "food poisoning."
I briefly considered calling in insane, which would have been more to the point. Sadly, honesty ain't always the best policy.
Sometimes I think I really am going crazy. I spent all day Tuesday staring blankly at the computer screen at work, nursing an elaborate fantasy in which I came down with appendicitis, or some other not-fatal-but-still-serious condition, so I could take a few days off. Not a good sign. (Hello, universe? Just kidding about the appendix thing. I respect & value all of my vestigial body parts.)
Today was the best day I've had since the last time I called in sick. Mind you, the last time I called in sick, I spent the entire day lying on the floor of my bathroom puking my innards out (including something that looked like an appendix), wishing that my parents had been more cautious about birth control and thus spared me the agony of that moment.
Still, it was notably better than being at work.
I really shouldn't complain, as my job could be much worse. I could be gluing lifelike hairs onto "adult novelties" in Malaysia for 12 cents a week. I could be the poor sucker in the Shamu costume at Sea World in August. Or I could be a producer for Bill O'Reilly, for god's sake.
The other day, my dad half-jokingly sent me a link to this article entitled, "Are you ready to jump ship?" It included one of those quizzes like you sometimes find in women's magazines, that typically lead you to think that you should run screaming to your doctor, leave your spouse, or buy a better bra.
The first few questions:
1. I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning.
2. I'm often late for work.
3. Once I arrive at work, it takes me a while to actually get started working.
4. I sit at my desk and daydream.
5. I spend time at work doing personal tasks.
My score was "Why Haven't You Quit Already?" Of course, I'm pretty sure that was the score of 98% of all people who aren't Paris Hilton for a living.
A better quiz might be as follows. Respond to each question with never (0), sometimes (10), often(20), or fuckin' A! (40)
1. I've consulted a witch doctor or shaman about harnessing the forces of darkness against clients/boss/photocopier
2. I no longer pay attention to traffic lights.
3. I linger a little too long in the "Guns & Ammo" section of Wal-Mart
4. At work, I somtimes get distracteed by non-essential personal tasks, such as sitting in the corner slowly ripping up newspapers, while talking to self.
5. On Sunday nights I sit in front of the Medical Encyclopedia trying to decide anyone would believe I actually have rickets. Consumption? Cat scratch disease?
I said that I'd thrown out my back, which, if anyone from work is reading, is absolutely and thoroughly TRUE. Although if in an entirely theoretical scenerio someone were to be dishonest and lie about such things, back pain is remarkably hard to disprove. You don't have to fake-cough or come up with an elaborate description of what caused the "food poisoning."
I briefly considered calling in insane, which would have been more to the point. Sadly, honesty ain't always the best policy.
Sometimes I think I really am going crazy. I spent all day Tuesday staring blankly at the computer screen at work, nursing an elaborate fantasy in which I came down with appendicitis, or some other not-fatal-but-still-serious condition, so I could take a few days off. Not a good sign. (Hello, universe? Just kidding about the appendix thing. I respect & value all of my vestigial body parts.)
Today was the best day I've had since the last time I called in sick. Mind you, the last time I called in sick, I spent the entire day lying on the floor of my bathroom puking my innards out (including something that looked like an appendix), wishing that my parents had been more cautious about birth control and thus spared me the agony of that moment.
Still, it was notably better than being at work.
I really shouldn't complain, as my job could be much worse. I could be gluing lifelike hairs onto "adult novelties" in Malaysia for 12 cents a week. I could be the poor sucker in the Shamu costume at Sea World in August. Or I could be a producer for Bill O'Reilly, for god's sake.
The other day, my dad half-jokingly sent me a link to this article entitled, "Are you ready to jump ship?" It included one of those quizzes like you sometimes find in women's magazines, that typically lead you to think that you should run screaming to your doctor, leave your spouse, or buy a better bra.
The first few questions:
1. I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning.
2. I'm often late for work.
3. Once I arrive at work, it takes me a while to actually get started working.
4. I sit at my desk and daydream.
5. I spend time at work doing personal tasks.
My score was "Why Haven't You Quit Already?" Of course, I'm pretty sure that was the score of 98% of all people who aren't Paris Hilton for a living.
A better quiz might be as follows. Respond to each question with never (0), sometimes (10), often(20), or fuckin' A! (40)
1. I've consulted a witch doctor or shaman about harnessing the forces of darkness against clients/boss/photocopier
2. I no longer pay attention to traffic lights.
3. I linger a little too long in the "Guns & Ammo" section of Wal-Mart
4. At work, I somtimes get distracteed by non-essential personal tasks, such as sitting in the corner slowly ripping up newspapers, while talking to self.
5. On Sunday nights I sit in front of the Medical Encyclopedia trying to decide anyone would believe I actually have rickets. Consumption? Cat scratch disease?
posted by Marguerite at 5:51 PM
2 Comments:
Are you still "sick"? Where are you?
Thanks for staying tuned, Jolynn! Now that I'm getting out of my ridiculous funk, I promise to actually update this more regularly.
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