Monday, October 26, 2015

Monday Headache. Bitch!

Fatty was in late. Monday morning. “She’s not reliable,” Jack’s words sound in my head on such occasions. What is reliable? I ask you? How many sick days are you entitled to take, do you have to take before your "reliability" is questioned? Of course, I am hoping she doesn’t come in, so I can work on my own. As it was hitting 9am, I was wondering if she was coming in at all, but she rolled in right on 9am. (I didn't mean 'rolled' because of her girth, I meant it just in the usual slang sense, but you know, now that I think about it...)

Chuckle. I'm bad.

She bought lemons. She’s really very nice. She remembered our discussion from Friday and my comment about how Sam and I are always looking for a lemons. "How we live without lemons," I said.

Well, apparently  she has a lemon tree that is abundant with fruit, that she never eats. She said she'd bring them in. And she did.


Recently, something was said about her original termination date, which was the beginning of November. She’s been playing it close to her chest, only willing to say that she was still "filling in." Really? Filling in? No comment had been made about a replacement for Kirin with only weeks to go. It wasn't believable. So I asked her straight out. “You are staying though, aren’t you?”

“Oh, um?” Still playing coy. She looked at me as if she was mentally reviewing the instructions thus far.

“You aren’t leaving, are you?”

She held my gaze. “No,” she cleared her throat. “No I am not,” she replied. Paddington was in the process of making her an offer. 

“Are you okay with that?” The fragility in her little girl’s voice suddenly became very clear. I guess we all want to know that we are wanted, no matter how important, or unimportant, it is to the final out come.

“I am more than happy with that,” I said. She knows her stuff. She is interesting. She is generous. And, in what would be an anti-point for most, she is away often enough to make life interesting. Yes, I am very happy for her to stay.

She smiled. “Oh, that’s good.”


I had a headache for most of the morning. I was considering taking the rest of the day off, actually. I never take sick days, although once I start I can get the hang of it. I was trying to work myself up to saying that I was going home sick, but as pathetic as this sounds, I didn’t want Fatty to be prompted to think about my first sick day, which I still haven’t processed through the system. All the over time I do, it is kind of accepted that I wouldn’t have to, but, truthfully, that may only in my head. Oh yes, failures of old, have I leaned nothing? The terrible law firm had that on me when they terminated my tenure. Leave days not submitted, kill me now! (Which they did) Again, that was due to extra hours I'd done, but I digress. (That is all about as interesting as nail fungus, I realise) 

My headache steadily got worse and I had no pills in my bag. I was on the verge of saying that I was leaving, when Fatty reminded me that Tuesday was a holiday and that we had to get most things done by Friday, finalised. Damn! I thought. Then I quietly laughed at myself for damning a (public holiday, what have I become, and so quickly) day off. At that point, I went home and got headache pills.

“I’ve got Panadol,” replied Fatty. “Unless you want something else?”

My brain quickly processed the Panadol offer. “I want something else.”

“Okay,” said Fatty in her little girl’s voice.


I wanted to get out and stretch my legs and get some fresh air, maybe, just maybe, that would do me some good. I just wanted to get away, lets face it. Escape. Ah the never ending quest.

I resorted to comfort food too, buying my first muffin in ages on my way to get the pills. And a vanilla slice on the way back. Gug, gug, gug.

I had to buy lunch, dinner was a failure last night. Sam and I were tipping the muscles into a bowl when I commented.


"You sure put some vinegar in there." The waft of vinegar was strong, like chloroform at an all girl's schoolies week.

"Two cups," replied Sam.

"Two cups?" I questioned.

"Two cups of apple cider vinegar," replied Sam.

"Two cups?"

"Of apple cider vinegar."

"Two cups is a lot of vinegar," I said. "Show me the recipe."

Sam held out the recipe to me. "Um, two cups of apple cider."

He looked coy. "Oops."

The muscles just tasted odd.


Is that really the reason why I didn't have lunch to take to work today? I dunno, maybe not.

I bought a ham and eggs and sun dried tomato wrap, which I loved.

I took two nurofen.

My headache went away.

The day rolled on, until it rolled no longer.

 

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