Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned. It has been 8 days since my last entry.
Today is not a good day. I have woken up dizzy for the past 3-4 days, but it has usually gone away by the afternoon and I've been going to work. As you might notice by the time I entered this, I am not at work today. I have been dizzy to the point of being nauseous all day. Monica called me from school today (she was subbing for a half-day), wondering if everything was ok, because I was supposed to have brought the boys up to her mom so I could leave for work. Now her mom is going to know something is up. And her mom bitches to her about me not going to work. As if I can magically make myself all better. As if Monica needs the extra stress. I swear, I wish Anne had the nerve to say something to me about it; I'd give her an earful. Who is she, to judge me and my condition? I don't think she has any idea what Meniere's disease is, much less be able to complain about whether I should be working or not.
Okay, okay... I realize I mostly use this as an outlet for complaining... but heres a happy thought: I got paid yesterday. Yes, I actually worked a full week and got a full paycheck (minus the 15 minutes for the day my mother made me late; 'nuff said on that though). And I've already got dinner in the oven; herb-crusted pork roast. I'm thinking rice on the side, but I'd prefer mashed potatoes, but we don't have any potatoes, or any instant. But rice is good too. And there will be gravy. And the people rejoiced!
Today is not a good day. I have woken up dizzy for the past 3-4 days, but it has usually gone away by the afternoon and I've been going to work. As you might notice by the time I entered this, I am not at work today. I have been dizzy to the point of being nauseous all day. Monica called me from school today (she was subbing for a half-day), wondering if everything was ok, because I was supposed to have brought the boys up to her mom so I could leave for work. Now her mom is going to know something is up. And her mom bitches to her about me not going to work. As if I can magically make myself all better. As if Monica needs the extra stress. I swear, I wish Anne had the nerve to say something to me about it; I'd give her an earful. Who is she, to judge me and my condition? I don't think she has any idea what Meniere's disease is, much less be able to complain about whether I should be working or not.
Okay, okay... I realize I mostly use this as an outlet for complaining... but heres a happy thought: I got paid yesterday. Yes, I actually worked a full week and got a full paycheck (minus the 15 minutes for the day my mother made me late; 'nuff said on that though). And I've already got dinner in the oven; herb-crusted pork roast. I'm thinking rice on the side, but I'd prefer mashed potatoes, but we don't have any potatoes, or any instant. But rice is good too. And there will be gravy. And the people rejoiced!
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