Finding Focus, Day 12: Scabby Pop-Tart Stroganoff
The day didn't start so well with me waking up late, feeling really sick and barely able to talk because my throat felt like it had been ravaged by fire ants. When I woke up it was when I was supposed to be at work so my manager John was understandably pissed off at me for calling out when I did. Especially since Fridays are so busy, but mostly because if I'd called when I was supposed to leave for work instead of when I was suppose to be there then he'd have had an hour to find someone to replace me. Normally when management acts like an ass to me it doesn't bother me because most of the time I pull my weight and if they don't appreciate it then fuck them. In this case, though, I'd really dropped the ball and left my team more fucked than if I'd been more responsible.
Since I was sick, I didn't really do anything except for sleep until Brenda left for work in the afternoon and I had to take over watching Rachael. Fortunately arrangements had been made for Destiny to stay over at a friend's after school so I only had one child to tend to and Rachael is the easy one.
Later in the evening I was feeling somewhat better and wanted to get out of the house while Debra was taking Rachael over to hang out with Gene and Haven. So Brenda and I wandered down to Criminal Records so I could pick up Daredevil #84 (one of the few titles I bother to pick up in individual issues since I'm really a trades man). Then we went down to Elmyr and had a nice dinner. I felt a little guilty about splurging like that but I really needed a treat to improve my mood. Money stress is killing me. Everything has been going wrong there, down to the friend with whom I'd made a small deal with having a heart attack and currently being in the hospital. Granted, he's taking the worst end of that situation but it's still a bit of a kick to my crotch.
None of this would be a problem in the least if Debra's stupid school check would hurry up and get here.
Why the fuck aren't I sleeping?
The day didn't start so well with me waking up late, feeling really sick and barely able to talk because my throat felt like it had been ravaged by fire ants. When I woke up it was when I was supposed to be at work so my manager John was understandably pissed off at me for calling out when I did. Especially since Fridays are so busy, but mostly because if I'd called when I was supposed to leave for work instead of when I was suppose to be there then he'd have had an hour to find someone to replace me. Normally when management acts like an ass to me it doesn't bother me because most of the time I pull my weight and if they don't appreciate it then fuck them. In this case, though, I'd really dropped the ball and left my team more fucked than if I'd been more responsible.
Since I was sick, I didn't really do anything except for sleep until Brenda left for work in the afternoon and I had to take over watching Rachael. Fortunately arrangements had been made for Destiny to stay over at a friend's after school so I only had one child to tend to and Rachael is the easy one.
Later in the evening I was feeling somewhat better and wanted to get out of the house while Debra was taking Rachael over to hang out with Gene and Haven. So Brenda and I wandered down to Criminal Records so I could pick up Daredevil #84 (one of the few titles I bother to pick up in individual issues since I'm really a trades man). Then we went down to Elmyr and had a nice dinner. I felt a little guilty about splurging like that but I really needed a treat to improve my mood. Money stress is killing me. Everything has been going wrong there, down to the friend with whom I'd made a small deal with having a heart attack and currently being in the hospital. Granted, he's taking the worst end of that situation but it's still a bit of a kick to my crotch.
None of this would be a problem in the least if Debra's stupid school check would hurry up and get here.
Why the fuck aren't I sleeping?