Thursday, January 8, 2004

Diary of A Sick Blogger

I stayed home from work. I’m going to lose my perfect attendance medal and I know there were people in my office trying to find things. Maybe I’ll stay sick, I know I’m going to be nauseous when I go back.

Camille Has A Cold


1:35 am – The phone rings. My first thought is that I over slept and turned my alarm off and forgot to call in at work and now they were calling me. No. It was a fax machine. Stupid fax machines.

6:30 am – Kitty wants something. He is tipping shells off a shelf to get my attention. It doesn’t seem to hurt the shells, but I get up and feed him.

7:30 am – I call in. It takes me a while to remember the name of the woman who answered the phone because she wasn’t who I was expecting. I leave a voice message on Nominal Boss’ phone telling her I am following her request to stay at home.

8:30 am – I find my doctors number, but first I want to figure out how to find the office. I can’t remember how to get there and I’m pretty sure I do remember throwing the directions away the last time I cleaned out the car. Brilliant. I can’t print the directions out when I finally find them, stupid printer. All printers are stupid. The $250 printer will shit out in three months just like the $39 printer. So I have to find paper. Stupid paper. And a Pen. Stupid Pen. I did not stay home so I could hunt around to find office supplies. Stupid Diana.

8:50 am – Call Doctors office. Whimpered into the phone to list my symptoms and what I thought my diagnosis was. I was wrong. I’m not dying. I have the flu, maybe. A nurse will call me back and they will call in a prescription. What pharmacy do I use? My pharmacy closed. My head is full of flem and it takes me a minute to remember what my replacement pharmacy is called. It is not CNBC or CBS.

8:55 am – Dogger wants to eat. Now. Feed Dogger. Take Dogger out. The leash slips from my trembling hands and she races around the basement. Bitch. I go up the stairs again and get her a treat-bribe and force her furry butt outside. Damn it’s cold. Stupid Dogger.

9:00 am-11:00 am – TNT does not have much outside adverting during the day. They just pimp their own programming. Over. And. Over. And. Over. Really, really hating Patricia Heaton. Also, Alyssa Malono. She looks funny.

11:00 am – Doctors office calls and tells me they called a script in for me. I may have to brush my teeth. Watch more TV to rest from all that thinking.

12:30 pm – Pharmacy. Loud lady bitching because her daughters meds weren’t ready, because she sent her nine year old son to drop off the prescription he didn’t have all the information that the pharmacy needed. Because he was Nine, this is the pharmacy’s fault. Loud Stupid Lady.

1:00 pm - $40 with insurance for 10 pills. Without insurance, $80.

1:15 pm – 2:00 pm – More TNT. More Patricia Heaton Hate. Remember promise to call Heater Service to come look at heater. I call the Heater Service and they agree to send someone by today.

2:30 pm – Heater Guy comes. Makes me spend way too much time upright. There is nothing wrong with heater. Very Tired now.

3:15 pm – Heater Guy leaves. I turn to TBS, awe. The X-Files I loved this show. Mulder. Deep Fangirl Sigh. Fall asleep, Hate Patricia Horton in dreams.

5:30 pm – Wake up. Feel somewhat less awful. Feed dog, watch more TNT.

5:30 pm – Present – I am beginning to believe that Lenny Briscoe is everywhere and he should arrest Patricia Heaton. Stupid TNT.

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