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Thursday, Oct. 17, 2002 / 11:17 p.m. ~Slowing Down Whilst Trying To Catch Up~ I think that as I was writing yesterday's entry I realized I was writing it directly to one person, and I probably even wanted that person to read it, even though I said I didn't care. Of course I cared, or I wouldn't have written any of it at all. But it appears she didn't read it, so there you have it. When these things happen, these misunderstandings, misinterpretations, etc., I've had the occasional note, some misguided apology from someone who never even entered my mind, and I'm quick to say, No, it's not you, not to worry, go about your business, all is well. It's not that hard to be nice to people who are nice to you. Try it. This is my first time putting on my glasses all day. This is my first time sitting upright for any length of time. I took Nyquil last night, and I slept. I slept and slept, and I dreamed, rich and vivid dreams. I awoke early and knew I couldn't make it to work, I shouldn't make it to work, I remembered someone telling me to take another day, and it was probably more than just one person, but it was replaying in my head, like in some movie, or TV show, or Dave Letterman rubbing his chin and saying, "It seems like it was only yesterday....". It went, "Take another day if you need it, take another day, take...." Then I remembered my Supervisor, D., saying that I could call the Manager (M) if I wanted to call in early. D. arrives when I do, but M is there an hour earlier. So I lay with phone in hand, dialing, waiting for either to arrive. Lying in bed formulating what to say, what would the appropriate words be this time. I reached M and said I needed another day, I coughed all day in my cube yesterday, I have Friday and Monday off, that should give me plenty of time to recoup. She asked if I'd seen a doctor. She is of the group who goes to doctors. I am not. I don't do doctors. I mean, I'd 'do' a doctor, if he was cute, but I don't go to doctors. I have no health insurance either. They sort of go hand in hand, or they at least discuss the merits, together. She also said I had to leave a message on D.'s voicemail. Such protocol, such red tape. On my message to D. I said, "I know you believe in going to work even when you're sick, but I don't, and I don't want a replay of yesterday, sitting in my cube coughing all day, I need to stay home, I need to stay in bed, I'll see you Tuesday." I'll never forget her throwing up into her trashcan when she was pregnant with her son. Every day, or so it seemed, and we all wished she'd get up and run to the bathroom, take early maternity leave, call in sick, anything. She is a bit of a workaholic, to say the least. Then I had to lie in bed (look how I've used "lie", "lay" and I could also use "lain" appropriately - 9th grade English, never forget how to conjugate those two - Grammar Bitch is I) and worry about what I'd said, did I say it right?, do they believe me?, will I gain any sympathy at all from this bunch?, do they think I'm sick now?! I fell back to sleep, more dreams, heavy, heavy sleep, cats pressed against me, one on each side, holding me in place, Gladys under covers later, spooning. Bliss. Ringer turned off, but I hear Kukla leaving me a message on my answering machine so I pick up, she woke me. She asks can she bring me anything, she's wondering how I am, everyone wants to know, everyone is worried about me (!). I say no, as usual, but I'm thinking how I'm out of juice, how I haven't been shopping in a few weeks, how it would be nice, actually, and she repeats her offer, no, I say, then I give in. Sure. It would be nice. Orange juice. Sure, whatever is cheapest, yes, soup is good, Campbell's is fine, of course, how nice. Thank you. Later, Laverne calls and leaves a message, says Kukla told her to call and hear Moby on my answering machine. Kukla told her it was sexy. Yes, it is. Ahhhh, Moby. I had to give up on him. He's too big for me. But I still remember how much I wanted him, really, really thought it could happen. I'm such a dreamer. I slept 'til 4:30 p.m. Only got up so I could be ready when Kukla came by. Sitting on the sofa in a daze, waiting, watching news. No coughing attacks, no real urge anymore. Congested, exhausted, but better, I can tell. Kukla came by with two bags, one with a gallon jug of orange juice, a six pack of plastic bottles filled with citrus punch, the other bag with four cans of soup, vegetable and broth. And she held out a fuschia piece of paper, a handmade 'card', a 'Get Well' card made by the team, and everyone signed it. Penelope wrote that Norma and Gladys will take care of me, and she said something about god blessing me. Kukla wrote that it was so weird for me not to be there, that I never get sick! Even the 'new boy' wrote that I should get well soon. And Listerine wants me to go to the doctor and get medicine. I'd like to tell her that the 'common cold' has no cure, only medicines available are to relieve symptoms, and I've done that. It was unbelievably sweet. I ate leftovers from Chili's - I got takeout after work yesterday....Country Fried Steak with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob, and a HUGE Southwestern Cobb Salad. I had leftover salad and mashed potatoes, drank orange juice, tea, took vitamins and echinacea, and watched TV. My "Felicity" I watch every day now on WE, and "Survivor" and "CSI" and "ER", and here I am. Yesterday on the way into work the traffic on the Interstate was at a standstill. I had to take an alternate route, we all did, as traffic was sent off an exit ramp, the whole Interstate closed! I was late, 11 minutes, and I walked in to find the team in a meeting, I said, "The Highway was CLOSED!", and they all nodded, yes, they knew. A cattle car, a tractor trailer containing some 42 cows had crashed on the highway, at 5:30 a.m. The driver had crashed his cab into the median, cracked it, or broke it, and he died instantly. I'll assume it was instantly. He was 36, from Kentucky. As traffic was diverted away from the scene, the trailer lay on its side, the cows had landed on each other, some smothered, or crushed by the weight. Some 29 of 42 had survived. A team arrived to cut a hole in the trailer and remove the cows one by one. Some dead, some alive. We joked about the meat. I called Mark to make sure he arrived at work okay. Traffic in both directions was held up for miles and miles. Here we were all sad about cows crashing on the freeway when we'd gladly enjoy a hamburger today, and might we pay you on Tuesday? (And Caroline wonders if people can understand what she's writing about? Hah! My references are no doubt much more obscure.....at times) Cough. Good and productive. No more constant urge. This is good. But I have this headache now, and I'm guessing it's because my coffee bean grinder ceased to function and I have none ground, coffee beans, so I've been skipping coffee for two days. Green tea instead, but the coffee withdrawl can cause headaches. I'm self diagnosing, again. Damned Spam. It's coming labeled ***SPAM*** now. What's up with this shit? Is it personal? Is it a Diaryland thing? Some sort of cyber attack? So, yeah, the cow thing yesterday was wild. I was listening to AM talk radio just to try to hear anything about it at all. Sometimes it's really hard to be stuck at work, disconnected from the world. I wish we had Interweb access from our cube PCs, I really do, it makes no sense that we don't, but that's what it is. Right now? I feel disjointed somehow. A bit 'out of it', a bit guilty for hating my coworkers and seeing how nice they can be, a bit tired, and a bit angry that I've been so sick. I'm pissed that my body let me down like this. I have things to do, I don't have the time to be sick, I need to be well, things to do, places to go, people to see, etc. The convention starts tomorrow, but I haven't even been to the bookstore to look at designs yet. I hate to put all my trust in one person's design. I am thinking I'll go to the convention on Saturday, that I need tomorrow to rest more. And do some things around here, some cleaning. And I have to go buy a new coffee grinder. Nothing lasts forever. The one I have was a replacement the ex bought when he broke my old one. He must've purchased it around 1988??? I'm guessing, but it's been finicky lately, and I crossed it off my list of things to purchase, being that it worked, mostly, now not at all. Same with the VCR, which is even older. I have shopping to do, cleaning to do, resting to do, and I need to go get tattooed. Funny list, eh? Shopping, cleaning, get tattooed. Typical. And, and, and, I haven't read diaries in two or three days. I didn't know JimmyU wrote about a vibrating pager, what? I don't know what's going on with any of my Diaryland pals, except that one, and I'd rather forget about her - just writing that reminded me of the rudeness, and how awful and unnecessary it seemed....... Moving on. Still catching up, feeling better, taking time. Slowing down, but trying not to let anything get away from me. Does that all make sense? Cost of the War in Iraq
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