I have been feverish on and off all week. I was miserable at work yesterday, either freezing to death or sweating through my shirt. I was miserable last night. My glands are swollen out to my jawbone. In short, I'm sick. If I somehow manage to hold on to this God-forsaken job for that long, I will have full health insurance and a few hours worth of sick time in less than three weeks. I am doing my level best to deal with this on my own, and to keep my paycheck out of the red along the way. I muddled through yesterday, but I just couldn't make it today. I got dressed, took some extra medicine, and made my way in like a trooper, but I just couldn't do it today. I worked for an hour, and then I came home. This is all coming straight out of my pocket, mind you, and wiping out any overtime I may have had built up as well.
The bitches in my department wouldn't even acknowledge me as I made my apologies and made my way out the door today. I'm feeling like a bit of a loose cannon because of my fever, so I came straight home and sent this email:
I was just wondering if you were not speaking to me because I came TO work sick this morning, or because I came home FROM work sick.
I certainly didn't plan this either way, and I am most definitely not enjoying it.
Perhaps they feel that I planned to miss work today because they had a big drama-filled meeting scheduled for 10:00 A.M. and I lit out at 9:55. Yeah, because that is how I roll. In truth, I was looking forward to the ridiculousness of the entire situation, and I was hoping for some Blog-worthy bullshit from the whole thing. I'm sad to be missing it.