Worst kind of sick person

I am sick. I am trying really hard not to let it get any worse. I’ve had the OJ, the Airborne, the vitamins, Flonase, yogurt, water, Ricola. I’m fighting with everything I’ve got. I hate being sick.

I guess it was a little inevitable for me to get sick. First, I took two round trip airplane rides two weeks in a row. Then when I got back, I partied like a rock star with a bunch of different rock stars. No telling where those guys have been, and we were sharing beers. On top of that, I have not been sleeping well. Too much on my mind.

I confess to being the worst kind of sick person. First off, I’m always in denial about it. I’ll have completely lost my voice and have a fever, and I’ll still be saying, “I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” When I finally admit to being sick, I’m so far gone, but still won’t go to the doctor. I absolutely hate going to the doctor only to hear, “you’ve got a virus. Drink more fluids and get more rest.” That’s so aggravating. I could have told them that.

The main reason I’m the most miserable sicky, though, is my attitude. When I’m sick, I don’t want anybody anywhere near me. I want to lay in bed for twenty four hours smelling like crap, looking like crap, and not have to talk to anyone. It’s impossible for anyone to do anything right when I’m under the weather. It’s best to just steer clear. Of course, you know this impossible to do when you live with someone, be they a roommate, family member, partner, spouse, whatever. They’re in my space, and I feel awful, and I want them to die.

So if you think it would be nice to make me some soup or something, think again. We’ll both be better off if you just ignore me while I try to ignore you.

I’m not really that sick, though. Seriously. I swear. It’s just a little runny nose. It’ll be fine.

Just sayin’.

Burning the Candle

It’s not really like at both ends. I honestly feel like I’ve just been throwing the whole damn candle in the fireplace for months. I never get to sleep in the way that I like to. I’m nocturnal. I’m pretty reliant on not getting out of bed before noon on Saturday and Sunday to make up my sleep debt. Why do people insist on pretending like they’re so important that they’ve got something vital to do at 9 on Saturday? You’re not that special. Go back to bed.

It ought to be illegal. We should all be locked in our houses until noon, and not allowed to leave. Giant robots could stand guard. Yeah. That’s the ticket. I’m all about a society of enforced laziness via martial law, compulsory cocktails, and working from home a.k.a. working from pajamas.

All I have to do now is get the concept of Business Attire amended to mean Cargo pants and a Hoodie.

And Cocktail Attire would be jeans and a tank top. (I mean, that’s what I wear when I drink cocktails.)

So, I guess what I’m saying is – Here’s to the lazy folks! Stay as bad as you wanna be in bed as long as you wanna be!

Compulsory Cocktails

The CEO of my company just sent out an office wide email.   The subject was : “Mandatory Happy Hour Meeting – 4:00 Today”.

Yes, you read that right.   At 4:00 today, my company will be hosting an Happy Hour, and I am required to go.   I am required to sip on a cocktail (I suppose they would let me have a soda.  I mean, they’re not going to hold my nose and pour Captain Morgan’s down my throat) and eat poo poos.    I guess that’s what they mean by “Keeping it Real.”

We’re hiring, by the way, if any of you are into getting messed up while working with and for a bunch of swillers.

Just sayin’.