A friend sent me an e-card yesterday, “I’m sorry that your sick day is actually due to sickness.” It made me laugh. But I didn’t take a sick day. I wanted to, just couldn’t. Everyday, I woke up, threatening to call in sick, but always chickened out at the last minute. I kept thinking about the certain tasks at work that only I could do. Must get in and upload the revised presentation to the web site. Must get in and return the phone call to the investor who asked about the preferred stock. And as I bussed down to work, I promised myself that it would only be a half day. I’d get in, finish up those tasks, and come crawling back home into bed. Never happened.
So I slept 10 hours last night. Left the house once today and have been holed up inside, typing and writing away all day. I re-worked one of my stories for class. I’m glad that I carved out some time out of my busy schedule to actually get some writing done. I’ve been going to class, doing my assignments in class! We had to do story outlines this past week and I was lucky she went around the room with me going last. It gave me the time to finish my outline right then and there.
Ready to zonk out now on Ambien. Yey!
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