Sick and Saturday

2005-03-07 - 6:47 p.m.

Wow.

I mean, holy smokes, wow.

I just called in sick to work for tomorrow (a head cold that certainly was not exacerbated by playing rugby in the snow on Saturday), and instead of having an awkward question and answer session where my choices about how I deal with illness are frowned upon, my boss just sounded concerned, and told me that he'd already taken some steps to work around my absence, and that I don't need to worry.

Is this normal?!

Because at my last job, the last time I took any sort of significant sick time (the cold where I lost about 10 pounds in a week, this time last year), I had to have a meeting with the boss about whether or not my attitude was suffering. She also practically ordered me to see a doctor in front of the office. She also (for some insane reason I will never, ever figure out) got mad whenever I gave her "too much warning" about my being sick. She wanted me to call her three hours before my shift began (that's 5am, kids. If I'm sick, I should set my alarm for 5am. Yeppers.), just in case I got better.

I'm earning about two thirds what I did at my old job, and while money is tight (and I won't get paid for this absence), I almost feel like I got a promotion.

In other news, Saturday was actually a great day (excepting the hour or so where I was in "social anxiety disorder paradise"). The highlights:

I have a sun burn.

I was naked for the first time in a gay bathhouse.

I got called cute a lot. (Actually, in order for the guys to get me naked in the bathhouse, they had to convince me that I'm not hideous, which is easier to do now than it used to be. Their favourite method seems to be to huddle around me and pinch/stroke my nipples and say hot things. It's a lot less sexy than it sounds, and is kind of embarassing, and only works because the guys that do it are really hot, but I have no real feelings of attraction towards either of them, so it's not terribly icky).

I guess that's it for the highlights, but it was a fun day.

Now, I must go before my nose explodes. Which it will. Right...now.

Cheers,

The Magus

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