Inspired by real events.
11:13pm: Man, I feel pretty lousy. I thought I’d be over this by now. Wonder if I should take a sick day tomorrow?
11:14pm: Nah, that’s probably not a good idea. We’re already a week behind on project #1, projects 2 and 3 are on my to-do list for Monday, and projects 4 through 6 are hot on their heels. If I stay home, it just puts us further behind. I’ll just go to bed at a good hour, and hope a good night’s rest gets me ready for Monday.
11:30pm: *lights out*
11:59pm: *turns over for the 37th time*
12:03am: *gets up because nose starts running — again* Why must my sinuses produce water? This is weird. Is this grown-up snot? Just more annoying than regular snot?
12:15am: Husband flees bedroom for more peaceful sleeping options.
12:30am: *drifts off to sleep*
1:07am: *wakes up* Wonder what time it is. Feels late. Yeah. Yeah! It’s working! I’m getting some sleep! *looks at clock* Oh…..
1:08am: Maybe I should take a sick day tomorrow after all. No, got too much to do. Let’s go back to sleep….
3:23am: *snot* *look at clock* *sighs*
3:24am: Why am I itchy right THERE? In that spot I can’t possibly reach unless I get up and fold myself into a pretzel? Maybe I can ignore it.
3:25am: Ignoring it. Ignoring it. Ignoring it.
3:26am: DAMN YOU, FOUL SPOT! I SHALL SCRATCH YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE!
3:27am: *listens to the silence* Maybe I can turn over so these achey parts won’t be as achey. Guess not. *curses gravity’s effect on viscous bodily fluids
3:28am: I probably shouldn’t go to work tomorrow. It’s 3:30 in the morning.
3:29am: I’m such a wimp! Pioneer women didn’t get to take a sick day! Marines don’t take sick days! I work in an office, for pity’s sake. I can sit in my chair and work.
3:30am: Or I can sit in my chair at home and work, to be honest. I could work on projects 2 and 3….. *thinks about work*
3:35am: *drifts off to sleep*
5:55am: So do I go to work or not? *stretches* Still achey. No fever. Headache isn’t too bad. Throat is ok.
6:05am: But work is a half hour away. If I get there and then feel crappy, I still have to get back home. Maybe I’ll just work from home today.
6:06am: Actually, I feel like I’ve been run over. Sick days were probably meant for stuff like this.
8:01am: Guess it’s a sick day…..
Dedicated to all the workers out there who know the struggle between feeling like crap and not wanting to return to a bigger pile than they left at work the day before. Listen to your momma: take a sick day.
I write. I design. I cook. I read. I make music. I talk to people -- all kinds of people.
I used to teach and hopefully will do so again someday.
My dream job would be a cross between barrista and consultant, with a large helping of international travel and bohemian wandering through concerts, museums, galleries, and open spaces.
Somewhere back in time, my students started calling me "RameyLady" and the name stuck. I like it. There's a Ramey-man too. He's a much better writer but he seems to be too humble to share it with the world....at least, not yet.