Hopefully those affected visited the morons who decided that sick time was not necessary.
My daughter is sick again. Last week it was a stomach bug, this weekend it was a sore throat and now it’s blooming into a low-grade fever, even sorer throat, exhaustion and lots of sweating. Given that 3 kids were sent home from school from her class alone yesterday with flu, and the teacher was also sent home, I’m assuming the worst and keeping her home until the fever’s gone and I’m comfortable that she only has a nasty cold.
That said, is it selfish of me to be a little annoyed that every time I have a presentation or face to face meeting with someone one of the kids a) gets sick, b) breaks something or c) requires stitches?
I had 3 in-person meetings and a presentation scheduled today. The presentation I can do on a webex, but for fuck’s sake, I was talking to several different people about new positions within my company and it would’ve been really damn nice to do that so I could make a decision already. It’s taken me a couple of weeks to work up the stones to have these discussions and I’d like to just do it already.
Ordinarily I’d just ask my husband to cover at home, but given that I was at a conference all last week and he had the pleasure of managing everyone, that’d be somewhat shitty of me. Dammit.
I’m not understanding this rant because I’m not seeing what’s upsetting you.
I’m guessing “Going away party for a guy no one bothered to speak to enough to know why he was leaving, even at the damned party.”
Well, it’s a minirant. Just over how people assumed that the bartender was leaving a bartending job for another bartending/waiting job. The guy has a PhD but nobody knew that, yet everyone loved the guy.
I’m just amusing myself imagining the cocktails a PhD level chemist could mix up.
Maybe I should go back to school and get my PhD in Mixology.
Thanks! Of those three Mr. H is only on Metformin, but I’ll certainly be alert if he has any medication changes.
Correction: The flu is going around my work right now as well as a nasty cold/bug type virus. I’ve got the latter. I dummied up on OTC cold med all day so I could at least appear somewhat productive when I wasn’t running out back to sneeze and/or cough.
No, I’m human like everyone else. It’s been a long while, though, since I’ve come down with something like this. And I will admit that I’ve been lax in getting a shot.
:steps away from Broomstick:
A coworker’s husband has been in the hospital for the past week with it. He has something else going on which suppresses his natural immunity. Her schedule has been reduced so she can spend time with him. Another coworker contracted pneumonia after supposedly recovering from it. He’s been out for almost a month now.
Ew. Those types are the worst. My sympathies.
I am coming out the otherside of a nasty virus. It really knocked me for a loop. I am still coughing up lungs every few hours. No more cough meds, Dr. said I need to cough, to rid myself of fluid and junk in my bronchials. So now I cough, hack, spit and repeat.
I feel better, though.
And so far lil’wrekker has been well, she said a lot of people are sick in her dorm. She has had the flu shot, I don’t expect that to protect her much.
She has a large part in the spring musical, she needs to be able to rehearse. Fingers crossed.
My mother has been getting it for several years now, so far the worst she’s had was one very mild case. This is a woman who used to spend the winters somewhere between “you look like you’re dying” and “you look like you died”. It works.
I woke up maybe an hour ago. I look and feel like utter crapola. My nose is a running faucet. Thank god for Puffs infused with Vick’s.
OTOH my chest is starting to feel heavy. This is never a good sign.
I think I’ve caught whatever bug my daughter had yesterday. I went to work - briefly - realized I felt like shit and should go home and keep working from here. So here I sit. While someone POUNDS ON THE DAMN DOOR because apparently if someone doesn’t come the first, second or third time you ring the bell, if you incessantly pound on the door they will magically answer if you knock for at least 2-5 minutes.
Actually I’m seriously considering the possibility of opening the door if only to vomit all over the guy to make sure he and his clipboard never come back again. Maybe fighting the urge to get violently ill is not as worthwhile as I thought. Then again, I’m hoping to keep down the Advil I just took to combat the throbbing headache behind my right eye. Decisions, decisions.
Look Mr. City Employee, I understand it’s important that you get your full quota of rest every day, but don’t lie down in the middle of the street.
I almost broke both your legs this morning because you were sitting on the curb with your legs stretched out in the bike lane. Your mud covered jeans blended in nicely with the roadway and I almost didn’t see you, since my attention was fully focused on the dump truck that was passing me on the left.
Good afternoon all.
I came to rant about those monofilament plastic connectors that are driven through multiple layers of fabric (in this case, socks) at some factory somewhere for some purpose I can’t quite fathom. I bought several pairs of thick wooly socks today at Target in the hope of keeping my feet warm until spring. I spent at least half an hour snipping one end off each connector and then squeezing and fondling the socks in order to find the rest of the connector and remove it. I got a couple of sets of two pairs pinned to each other and removed all the connectors I could find. Did I get all of the little bastards? Who knows?
I had bought some of these socks last week and bought more today because they were so danged effective at keeping my feet warm. I wore one of the pairs Monday, washed them, and put them on this morning when I felt something funny down by the toes. The kind of shoes you wear with heavy wool socks aren’t the kind that slip on and off easily, kwim? So I sat down and laboriously undid my shoe on that foot, removed the sock, turned it inside out, and there was half of the little plastic connector thingie. I’ll probably keep finding them forever in the new pairs I bought today.
I’m old enough to remember the days when you bought a man’s dress shirt in a package and spend a good half hour removing all the straight pins that held it together in its neat package… knowing the wearer would probably find one or two more when he put on the shirt for the first time, with any luck, not in his carotid artery.
Wow, an "I remember when … " nostalgia post that didn’t yearn for Ye Goode Olde Days.
So apparently, if ya poison ivy yourself up sufficiently, the rash causes fluid buildup (edema) and man, y’all, I did not realize how much that hurts! My forearms are taut like a balloon, and sore.
Thankfully, a big-ass dose of ibuprofen (taken on advice of my bestie who just happens to be a dr.) brought some relief but I am so very ready for this shit to heal up.
Oh, my sweet daughter. Yes, I fully understand anxiety, since I’ve been hospitalized twice and take meds for it. Trust me, I get it.
But you’re not moving out for SIX MONTHS.
Quit freaking out.
You don’t have to buy everything now. Your boyfriend has lived the past four years without the “perfect” dresser and nightstands. You’ve lived your whole life with hand-me-downs and family antiques. Grow in to your couplehood.
And you don’t need to spend every waking moment with me. Yes, you’ll be three hours away. It’s not like there isn’t technology to stay in each other’s lives.
If she keeps this up, I’m going to kick her out fast.
I’m still using the same bedroom set – including the desk – my grandmother bought for my future use when I was born. It’s nothing especially fancy (it came from Sears), but every piece has survived three moves with no significant damage. (I have managed to misplace a decorative thing from one of the shelves on the desk, but it served no real purpose other than to prevent me from storing large books. A few plugs and some stain, and you really can’t tell anything is missing.)
Stupid Cars, stupid, stupid
I drive a new Ford Escape, 2017.
It has been being weird to start. Took to the Ford dealer. Poor car has to stay in the hospital. They put me in a beat up Ford focus as a loaner. Cool. I go home. I have an email. The technician said it’s a vacuum leak, I can come into pick it up my car at 5pm tomarrow. Great. Let me make a plan. I will go the other direction to Walmart this afternoon. And go the opposite direction tomarrow and pick up now-healed brand stinking new expensive Escape. Good plan. Walk my dogs. Get dressed. Comb hair. Brush teeth. A dab of perfume. Let’s go to Wal-Mart, yay!! Get out to beat up Ford focus. Familiarize myself where the headlight switch is, adjust the seat, put on seatbelt. Turn key…crickets chirping…Doesn’t even click…Now I remember the door didn’t chime when I opened it. Stupid cheap assed loaner car! Mr.Wrekker opens the hood, battery is completely dead. He put it on the charger, no trip to Walmart is gonna happen. He hopes it will make it back to the dealer tomarrow.
Back inside the house, jammies back on, But I smell really nice. That’s a plus.
Aargh. I don’t know who I’m most disgusted with: Haley Osment, the media, or commenters on media sites.
First of all, Haley, since you did it, I’ll pit you first. You missed the flight you had a ticket for; that’s on you. I’m sure it was frustrating that you couldn’t get the standby seating they offered you, but it was not a guarantee, so you were not justified in going full Neal Page. There’s no report that you said “Don’t you know who I am?!” but “I will destroy you” is pretty fucking out there. And after you’ve put in all this time and effort rebuilding your career and reputation, people had finally stopped talking about your DUI, and right when the new X-Files is starting up. It’ll probably take another ten years for people to forget about this one. Way to go, pal.
Second, the media. Seriously, this is news? It would be news if he had gotten arrested, or if there was video, but neither is the case. And stop calling him “former child actor”. He is an actor, a working actor. If you have to report on it, at least call him that.
Finally, the commenters. Again, there is no report that he said “Do you know who I am?”. The only source on that is Mark Cuban’s brother (goodie for him) tweeting a speculation that Haley had said that, with the ticket agent responding “No”. Yes, he has worked since A.I. No, he was not in a hurry to get back to his Starbucks job. He was probably in a hurry to get to one of his many acting jobs. What he did and said was very much not cool, but it didn’t necessarily spring from ego or entitlement. Much more likely that he was tired, hungry, stressed out, and, it being Super Bowl weekend in Vegas, probably hung over (but he’s of age, so no crime there). And did I say tired and stressed out? He’s constantly working; not being on George Clooney’s level does not mean he’s hurting for work. I’m not excusing the meltdown, but it probably didn’t happen for the reasons you think. And yes, I get it: he’s faaaaaaaaat. And short. What do you look like, huh?
Nobody ever puts glitter on wooly socks, so they have to get their attention SOMEHOW.