Let's start today by saying that in the 1330s a plague spread across most of the world. The Bubonic Plague, or black death as it was called, killed over 1/3 of Europe's population. Over 25 million people died in that one outbreak which lasted from 1347 to 1352. They claim that it was spread by the fleas which lived upon the rats infesting Europe at the time....
I disagree. Toddlers. Little kids were the agents for bubonic plague. I'd bet money on it. Why?? My kids gave me the flu this year....
So.... Prepare for one hell of a rant... if you don't want to read it, that's your fucking issue.
The question for today is: How exactly can someone justify slinging guilt trips for being sick when they almost NEVER come into work?!?
There is no justification. Only a man who has unrealistic beliefs as to what it means to own your own business.
Duke is sick. He has the same deal going that I have. Cough, cough, wheeze... add a spiking fever of at least 101.8... add extreme body aches... cold sweats... basically the flu virus, but better since it gives a false negative on the true influenza test but kicks your ass apparently twice as hard. I finally got back to work today. I'm cleared by my doctor to sit on my lazy ass until Tuesday, but no... I feel a bit better than death so I came in. I still feel like someone has been stomping on me, yes. I only came in because I'm paranoid about losing a job that I love, yes... even though I learned upon arrival that I really wasn't expected in at all this week (they knew that I had to be dead sick if I'd even miss work). But, nonetheless... Duke is sick... and his immune system is a bit more fucked up than mine so it's hitting him hard. I know how he's feeling (or I know a close comparison...) and I know that he doesn't need to be in a tattoo studio with open invasive procedures like piercings and tattoos while he has a highly contagious and infectious virus like this. I sincerely think that if his clientele knew what was going on, they'd give him a thumbs up for not exposing them.
But his boss? Noooooooo.... I know Brandon. I respect Brandon's talent as a tattoo artist. Do not get me wrong.... He has done work on me and the man is an excellent choice for piercing or ink. But.... if he thinks that he can go off on Duke for being out sick part of this week when he takes off for days or a week at a time with no explanation, no true emergency, no justifiable reason whatsoever, he has a very rude awakening to come.
Yeah, he owns the place... blah, blah, fucking blah... That only means that he should be working harder than Duke to keep the place open and running smoothly... Not sitting on his ass, at the house 90% of the time, complaining that his pussy hurts every time the fucking dog piddles the kitchen floor.
I've been to the doctor twice.... I've had two swabs run at least half of a meter (or so it felt!) up both nostrils in the last week... my oxygen level was tested and came back at nearly hospitalization level... My fever spiked near 104 yesterday, though the average was closer to 101-102, and my normal daily temp is usually 96.7F (yeah... I'm skinny, anemic, and cold to the touch). I've been dizzy almost constantly... I didn't eat anything more than 1/4 of a biscuit for more than 4 days... which leads us to the fact that I couldn't take my daily medications for those days, which = me + very aggressive, bitchy, hateful, demonic, capable of anything bad,bad,bad and just not a people person. I've been living on tepid water, tepid Sprite, a bit of orange juice, and gatorade for the past week... and I've probably sweat more and peed less than a fucking camel in the Sahara. And my boss told me to "just get to feeling better... don't worry about us."
I think I had a lot of reason to not go into to work with the way that I felt this week... and therefore, I think Duke has reason to believe that he probably shouldn't be at work, doing tattoos, and exposing the clientele to this lovely viral fun-fest.
So if Brandon thinks that his tempermental ass is going to guilt-trip my hubby-to-be about being very sick and having a verifiable and real excuse for not being at work to spread his contagion... Hmmm... I'll be the first one to set his ass straight.
Just let that sniveling punk say something again. Strike one has already been thrown. Strike two has me in my Durango and headed to wherever Brandon might be (you know, this could be part of the 10% of his time that he spends at the studio...) to make him rethink his own conception. There won't be a strike three. I'm just not that cute and fluffy anymore.
End rant.
I disagree. Toddlers. Little kids were the agents for bubonic plague. I'd bet money on it. Why?? My kids gave me the flu this year....
So.... Prepare for one hell of a rant... if you don't want to read it, that's your fucking issue.
The question for today is: How exactly can someone justify slinging guilt trips for being sick when they almost NEVER come into work?!?
There is no justification. Only a man who has unrealistic beliefs as to what it means to own your own business.
Duke is sick. He has the same deal going that I have. Cough, cough, wheeze... add a spiking fever of at least 101.8... add extreme body aches... cold sweats... basically the flu virus, but better since it gives a false negative on the true influenza test but kicks your ass apparently twice as hard. I finally got back to work today. I'm cleared by my doctor to sit on my lazy ass until Tuesday, but no... I feel a bit better than death so I came in. I still feel like someone has been stomping on me, yes. I only came in because I'm paranoid about losing a job that I love, yes... even though I learned upon arrival that I really wasn't expected in at all this week (they knew that I had to be dead sick if I'd even miss work). But, nonetheless... Duke is sick... and his immune system is a bit more fucked up than mine so it's hitting him hard. I know how he's feeling (or I know a close comparison...) and I know that he doesn't need to be in a tattoo studio with open invasive procedures like piercings and tattoos while he has a highly contagious and infectious virus like this. I sincerely think that if his clientele knew what was going on, they'd give him a thumbs up for not exposing them.
But his boss? Noooooooo.... I know Brandon. I respect Brandon's talent as a tattoo artist. Do not get me wrong.... He has done work on me and the man is an excellent choice for piercing or ink. But.... if he thinks that he can go off on Duke for being out sick part of this week when he takes off for days or a week at a time with no explanation, no true emergency, no justifiable reason whatsoever, he has a very rude awakening to come.
Yeah, he owns the place... blah, blah, fucking blah... That only means that he should be working harder than Duke to keep the place open and running smoothly... Not sitting on his ass, at the house 90% of the time, complaining that his pussy hurts every time the fucking dog piddles the kitchen floor.
I've been to the doctor twice.... I've had two swabs run at least half of a meter (or so it felt!) up both nostrils in the last week... my oxygen level was tested and came back at nearly hospitalization level... My fever spiked near 104 yesterday, though the average was closer to 101-102, and my normal daily temp is usually 96.7F (yeah... I'm skinny, anemic, and cold to the touch). I've been dizzy almost constantly... I didn't eat anything more than 1/4 of a biscuit for more than 4 days... which leads us to the fact that I couldn't take my daily medications for those days, which = me + very aggressive, bitchy, hateful, demonic, capable of anything bad,bad,bad and just not a people person. I've been living on tepid water, tepid Sprite, a bit of orange juice, and gatorade for the past week... and I've probably sweat more and peed less than a fucking camel in the Sahara. And my boss told me to "just get to feeling better... don't worry about us."
I think I had a lot of reason to not go into to work with the way that I felt this week... and therefore, I think Duke has reason to believe that he probably shouldn't be at work, doing tattoos, and exposing the clientele to this lovely viral fun-fest.
So if Brandon thinks that his tempermental ass is going to guilt-trip my hubby-to-be about being very sick and having a verifiable and real excuse for not being at work to spread his contagion... Hmmm... I'll be the first one to set his ass straight.
Just let that sniveling punk say something again. Strike one has already been thrown. Strike two has me in my Durango and headed to wherever Brandon might be (you know, this could be part of the 10% of his time that he spends at the studio...) to make him rethink his own conception. There won't be a strike three. I'm just not that cute and fluffy anymore.
End rant.