I can not BELIEVE that I am sick again. See - this is what I get for contemplating calling in fake sick. *sighs*
I didn't go in at all on Friday ... oh ... and CPL called wanting me to dislodge the mortgage approval she told me to shove up my ass on Wednesday, and couldn't understand why nobody would give her my home phone number. Uhh - it's called fear ... of bodily harm ... of dismemberment ... of meeting another of Dani's voodoo dolls with one's own likeness.
Anyhoo - I am sick.... and I am takin' it like a man. What I mean to say is that I'm a whiny, sooky, hypochondriac mess. My chest feels like the corner of a building is sitting on it. Plus, I think I may have been passing a stone ... no, really. I did that once before and this is basically what it felt like. I think it suffice to say I'm pretty pathetic.
I woke up Saturday morning and horked up something that I swear shook itself and skittered away - here's its likeness:
Not nice, that. Left a vile aftertaste as well.
Both of my children have come to my bedside, rubbed my hand in ernest concern and asked me if I'm dying. I shit you not. (thought I'd better get up after that)
I did go in this morning, but I didn't last long. Had to go and fetch some pharmacuticals. I also have a back up antibiotic if the phlegm creatures take over.