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Oh my god, the calling out gamble.
You know. When you're awake two hours before your shift starts, and you suspect you might be sick, but it's hard to tell what's genuine ick and what's the product of, like, sleep deprivation or whatever.
(I am not hungover. I chose the cheap wine expressly because I knew from experience that it would make me stupid enough to drink the entire bottle, but that it wasn't strong enough for that bottle to tip me over from tipsy to drunk. It's a science.)
And since you have two hours before said shift starts, there's only so much time to evaluate the situation before it becomes Not Cool to call out. So what do you do?
Well, I can't stop fucking coughing, and I work in food service, where that kinda thing doesn't look so good. So I took a chance and called out shortly after I coughed long and hard enough to bring my first couple bites of breakfast back up. So far, this seems to have been the right choice.
It also puts visiting Dad right out of the question, just in case. He's doing a lot better, by the way; his blood sugar is coming down and all that good stuff. Thanks to the people who replied to my post about it. *hugs* I have an awesome flist.
Unrelated inquiry: Does yesterday's Doctor Who make more sense if you actually remember most of the stuff from, say, the first forty-five minutes? I kind of doubt that to be the case, but I thought I'd ask.
You know. When you're awake two hours before your shift starts, and you suspect you might be sick, but it's hard to tell what's genuine ick and what's the product of, like, sleep deprivation or whatever.
(I am not hungover. I chose the cheap wine expressly because I knew from experience that it would make me stupid enough to drink the entire bottle, but that it wasn't strong enough for that bottle to tip me over from tipsy to drunk. It's a science.)
And since you have two hours before said shift starts, there's only so much time to evaluate the situation before it becomes Not Cool to call out. So what do you do?
Well, I can't stop fucking coughing, and I work in food service, where that kinda thing doesn't look so good. So I took a chance and called out shortly after I coughed long and hard enough to bring my first couple bites of breakfast back up. So far, this seems to have been the right choice.
It also puts visiting Dad right out of the question, just in case. He's doing a lot better, by the way; his blood sugar is coming down and all that good stuff. Thanks to the people who replied to my post about it. *hugs* I have an awesome flist.
Unrelated inquiry: Does yesterday's Doctor Who make more sense if you actually remember most of the stuff from, say, the first forty-five minutes? I kind of doubt that to be the case, but I thought I'd ask.
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