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So what I did Monday, basically, was sleep. I was only awake about, mmm, seven hours of twenty-four, which is saying something. Tuesday I called PM and got permission to come in late, but did manage to work from 1:30-9pm, albeit with a lot of sitting down and some weird zoning. I get fixated on stupid little details that in my right mind I would realize are not issues, but when I am sick and on NyQuil, I have no judgment.
That is why I did not write up the Haddon House order Tuesday night, though BW had done all the inventory counting.
Anyway, today I was less stuffy and less utterly drained, though still very, very spacy (I wish to god DayQuil did anything for my symptoms, because it's kind of embarrassing to be tripping out on NyQuil in public), and then kind of manic-on-fumes-and-caffeine toward the end of my shift. But again, I survived.
Now I am waiting for my mom to get home from her yoga class so she can call me and explain the seventy zillion emails about airplane schedules she sent me on Sunday night which make no sense and for which I think I only have about half the context anyway. I cannot read her mind, you know? I think sometimes she forgets this. She also forgets that I have no memory whatsoever for travel details -- she thinks I will remember motels we stayed at fifteen years ago for one night en route to Minnesota, and I'm like, what the fuck makes you think that will stick in my head? I remember weird extraneous world-building details from epic fantasy novels, not motel decor schemes and highway exits.
Oh well, to each her own. *wry*
As you can perhaps tell, I am still a little loopy on NyQuil, or I think I would A) make more sense, and B) be cursing less. I have lost my inner filter somewhere in, I dunno, the Jersey Turnpike or something.
Which makes no sense at all, so I should probably go lie down for a few minutes now.
(Beautiful day today, though! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping -- at oh dark hundred in the morning, they were chirping -- and I was not working with BW, so that was all good. He left the basement refrigerator door open last night, on the other hand, which is bad, because it can lead to our half and half going sour and chunky and ick. And then I didn't notice the door was open when I was downstairs getting coffee together for a transfer, so I cannot be simply and peacefully annoyed at him; I must be annoyed at myself as well. And holy shit, I am just running off at the mouth today.
Right. Bed.)
That is why I did not write up the Haddon House order Tuesday night, though BW had done all the inventory counting.
Anyway, today I was less stuffy and less utterly drained, though still very, very spacy (I wish to god DayQuil did anything for my symptoms, because it's kind of embarrassing to be tripping out on NyQuil in public), and then kind of manic-on-fumes-and-caffeine toward the end of my shift. But again, I survived.
Now I am waiting for my mom to get home from her yoga class so she can call me and explain the seventy zillion emails about airplane schedules she sent me on Sunday night which make no sense and for which I think I only have about half the context anyway. I cannot read her mind, you know? I think sometimes she forgets this. She also forgets that I have no memory whatsoever for travel details -- she thinks I will remember motels we stayed at fifteen years ago for one night en route to Minnesota, and I'm like, what the fuck makes you think that will stick in my head? I remember weird extraneous world-building details from epic fantasy novels, not motel decor schemes and highway exits.
Oh well, to each her own. *wry*
As you can perhaps tell, I am still a little loopy on NyQuil, or I think I would A) make more sense, and B) be cursing less. I have lost my inner filter somewhere in, I dunno, the Jersey Turnpike or something.
Which makes no sense at all, so I should probably go lie down for a few minutes now.
(Beautiful day today, though! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping -- at oh dark hundred in the morning, they were chirping -- and I was not working with BW, so that was all good. He left the basement refrigerator door open last night, on the other hand, which is bad, because it can lead to our half and half going sour and chunky and ick. And then I didn't notice the door was open when I was downstairs getting coffee together for a transfer, so I cannot be simply and peacefully annoyed at him; I must be annoyed at myself as well. And holy shit, I am just running off at the mouth today.
Right. Bed.)