I was at the office at 7:45 a.m. and predictably ready to begin my day with the morning tele-conference. She signed on and curtly said “Good Morning” and I knew it was going to be one of “those” days. I could read it in the sound of her voice.
She doesn’t even realize that I have to be up at 5:00 a.m. to get to the office to take notes for this frigging meeting. If she does realize it, I’m sure she doesn’t care. She takes the meeting at home, in her pajamas.
I started to develop a horrible case of rectal myopia at 8:00 a.m. It continued to worsen in the twenty-five minutes before anyone else arrived at the office. I decided that it would be a severe case of stomach troubles so that no one would get too close. Rectal myopia is contagious.
Rectal myopia means you can’t see your ass in the office that day.
I completed the meeting, feeling worse and worse. By the time everyone else had arrived, I was asking them to step back please. “I don’t feel well.”
At ten o’clock, when she finally arrived in the office, I put on my sad face and went to the door and knocked. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. I’m sick.”
“Do you have a fever? Go home!”
“I have some things that need to be done; I’ll leave when they are completed.”
“Okay. Here are some other things I need you to do.”
I left at noon.
I got a hotdog with everything on the way home and a steak for supper.
I cleaned out my car. I did laundry. I cleaned my home office and played with the dog in sunny eight-two degree weather.
I took four hours sick leave.
So sue me.