I returned to work today after being out yesterday with a bad back. I don’t know whether it’s a result of stress or what, but Sunday night I spent all night tossing, turning, wincing, and swearing. When I finally dropped off into the yawning maw of Morpheus, it was around 1:30 a.m.
When the bell rang for the first round Monday morning, I didn’t answer it. I had severe numbness in my lower extremities, and while that’s not completely unexpected, it’s not a pleasant sensation either.
So I stayed home…only to be called at about 9:30 a.m. by people claiming something was wrong with something and they couldn’t figure it out between the lot of them.
(Why, yes, that is snark and bitterness, thank you for noticing.)
I’m not able to take a vacation. I’m not able to be sick. I’m not able to be away from work without someone calling me about something, almost guaranteed. It’s one of the reasons when I leave the office I try like the dickens not to think about work.
There are only a handful of us who get this treatment. I guess I should consider myself lucky, right? Right?
Well, I’m here today and things are crypt-quiet and pretty laid back. After troubleshooting the problem over the phone yesterday and getting things back up and running, there was little I needed to do today. So it’s been a day of catching up on the projects I put off because I had to do someone else’s job last week.
But, the good news is, I got the most pressing project done. It’s out of my hair, and can now be tested by the requester. Nice.
Other than the jerk-around Monday while I was supposed to be out sick, all went well this past weekend. Oh, I’m deep, deep in heart attack country according to my company-mandated bio screening, which I got the results for today. Yeesh. I thought they were bad before, but they’re even worse now.
I’m in the red in so many of them, I’m waiting to be called into the HR office and told the insurance is going to drop me. We’ll see, I suppose.
This doesn’t bode well for me being able to leave my job to be an indie author, either. I won’t be able to get any private insurance to pick me up with those numbers. None. I can’t see how it would happen. So, I guess there’s another blessing in staying put, and working here. *Sigh* I love being a working stiff. It’s really great.
(Why yes, that is sarcasm and bitterness you hear, thank you for noticing.)
Have a great day and if we don’t talk again, a great week, y’all.