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rkti was this close to calling out sick this morning. i came home last night. crashed*. i woke up briefly last night when my brother called. i made another call for myself. back asleep by 12. (ok, this whole sleeping thing wasn't entirely steady. it was more like: wake. look at the clock. back to sleep. repeat. someday, i'll learn to sleep like a real person.)
but i despise calling out on tuesdays. i see about a third of my peoples on tuesdays, all of them after 5 (since i stay until 8ish) so remaking the appointments means trying to stay late another day at the last minute. inconvenient for me. inconvenient for them. which is to say, for me to even think about missing on a tuesday, takes a lot.
plus, i also have the therapy thing at 10. i wasn't positive i wouldn’t end up getting charged for calling out last minute. i could have called to find out, but since my home phone has been dead since saturday morning** and the repair person was to come out sometime today, my ass would have been dragged out of bed eventually anyway, i just said fuck it, and proceeded to start my day. throbbing head and all. cursing the garish sun that had interrupted my slumber in the first place.
the phone man rang the bell just as i was preparing to leave, which screwed up my leaving schedule. fortunately, i wasn't as late for the therapy thing as i thought i was going to be, which is good. the delay was also good, i suppose, since it gave me the chance to talk to my upstairs neighbor, who i almost never talk to. she was leaving at the same time as i.
the phone guy was still there when i left, so i have no clue what the status is. only time can tell. i'm at work. working. or “working”, i suppose. there are a million other things i could be doing, none of them particularly appealing. they'll get done. if they have to do things themselves.
Oh, and, i never even got to see the sunshine movie. my partner in crime called at 4am. he just got home from the hospital. blah. blah. blah. was sick. blah. blah. blah. sentenced to bed rest for the day. blah. blah. blah. so sorry. blah. blah.*** it’s being rescheduled for some other time. mr. kaufman has a way with his movies. which is to say he’s pretty good.
hmmm. i'll leave this here with a quote. from my “very favourite” book, the decline of males admittedly, there was a time when such a notion may have brought joy to my soul, now the line just brings bitter laughter. i'm not even going to comment. though, i think i may have to add this one to my info page. but i'm not sure since it’s too hard to convey tone.
adieu.
* i blame this crashedness on that damn overnight i went and did. Never again.
** the damn thing was FINE on friday night. i have no idea how the hell it could just stop working on me like that. no phone=no internet. yes, i enjoy living in the dark ages.
*** no, my heart isn’t made of ice. it just comes across that way sometimes. my body heat would melt any such internal ice. so the mere thought is utterly ridiculous.
it just might be made of stone, though.
but i despise calling out on tuesdays. i see about a third of my peoples on tuesdays, all of them after 5 (since i stay until 8ish) so remaking the appointments means trying to stay late another day at the last minute. inconvenient for me. inconvenient for them. which is to say, for me to even think about missing on a tuesday, takes a lot.
plus, i also have the therapy thing at 10. i wasn't positive i wouldn’t end up getting charged for calling out last minute. i could have called to find out, but since my home phone has been dead since saturday morning** and the repair person was to come out sometime today, my ass would have been dragged out of bed eventually anyway, i just said fuck it, and proceeded to start my day. throbbing head and all. cursing the garish sun that had interrupted my slumber in the first place.
the phone man rang the bell just as i was preparing to leave, which screwed up my leaving schedule. fortunately, i wasn't as late for the therapy thing as i thought i was going to be, which is good. the delay was also good, i suppose, since it gave me the chance to talk to my upstairs neighbor, who i almost never talk to. she was leaving at the same time as i.
the phone guy was still there when i left, so i have no clue what the status is. only time can tell. i'm at work. working. or “working”, i suppose. there are a million other things i could be doing, none of them particularly appealing. they'll get done. if they have to do things themselves.
Oh, and, i never even got to see the sunshine movie. my partner in crime called at 4am. he just got home from the hospital. blah. blah. blah. was sick. blah. blah. blah. sentenced to bed rest for the day. blah. blah. blah. so sorry. blah. blah.*** it’s being rescheduled for some other time. mr. kaufman has a way with his movies. which is to say he’s pretty good.
hmmm. i'll leave this here with a quote. from my “very favourite” book, the decline of males admittedly, there was a time when such a notion may have brought joy to my soul, now the line just brings bitter laughter. i'm not even going to comment. though, i think i may have to add this one to my info page. but i'm not sure since it’s too hard to convey tone.
The male is becoming so much trouble for everyone that in the future, in societies willing and able to control such matters, he will be lucky to even be born.
adieu.
* i blame this crashedness on that damn overnight i went and did. Never again.
** the damn thing was FINE on friday night. i have no idea how the hell it could just stop working on me like that. no phone=no internet. yes, i enjoy living in the dark ages.
*** no, my heart isn’t made of ice. it just comes across that way sometimes. my body heat would melt any such internal ice. so the mere thought is utterly ridiculous.
it just might be made of stone, though.
