Thursday, March 13, 2008

PAGING DOCTOR KICK-THIS-BUG'S-ASS....

Wow. I can't shake this fricking bug. This is getting pretty annoying. Now I'll have to go to the doctor to get an excuse for work. That's all right, though--I was planning to go, anyway. Maybe the doc can prescribe me some antibiotics or something. I generally don't take them, but this is a tenacious little bugger. (It makes me think of a million Olivers, virus-sized, swimming in my blood plasma, baying at the white blood cells, attacking without quarter.)

I talked to my supervisor about ten minutes ago. I hate making calls like that. I feel guilty, guilty as hell. It makes no difference that I have been holed up like a hibernating bear the last few days. It makes no difference that I sweat through another two shirts last night and woke to my sheets icy-cold wet. I still feel guilty for taking time off of work and still getting paid (Not a hundred percent, but something like ninety, I believe. Maybe seventy-five. Regardless, I ain't getting shut out of the greenbacks.).

Is there such a thing as "Irish guilt?" Or am I just making that up? I think that I've heard it somewhere before. I was IM-ing with my sister Melissa on Monday, the day that this crap-sickness began, and, even then, I was spouting off (jokingly) about Irish guilt. "Adam," she wrote, "you're killing me with that [Irish guilt] stuff." So I made sure to reference it about fifteen more times. That is me: the little brother. When I find something that might maybe perhaps get under my big sisters' skin a bit (even in jest, especially in jest) I hammer that "joke" until it is a trampled tin soda pop can, flat as a board, crinkled and all warshed out. It's one of my favourite things to do. I rather like to do that.

Irregardless, I am feeling a little guilty about being sick and missing work. It is more than legitimate...but I still feel like a slug. Truth be told, I feel quite a bit like a pussy. Meow.

Now, in my defense: gas utility, the work that I do (when I'm not at home, sucking my thumb and watching "Barney") is not exactly the easiest job on the body. It is really quite physically-demanding. Not to mention it has the capacity for danger. My company preaches safety all the time; it could be a safety issue if a worker is there, half-assed. Also, with a lowered lung capacity--from the dastardly bug--don't you think it would become easier to be overcome by the natural gas fumes, if they were so blowing? I think so. In fact, I know this to be the case.

And, finally, one last feather for my defense: a guy at work named Ken S____ was off with the "same" sickness. He stayed off for the loosely-expected three days and then he came back on the fourth...and ended going right back home. He had not been over the illness. My supervisor mentioned this to me in passing and I seized upon it. "Yeah," I said, "it's [the bug] a bastard."

And it is. It truly is. Sincerely. It sucks.

Okay. My Irish guilt thus assauged, I'm off to hit the hay. Maybe when I wake up, I won't be feeling so weak and achey. And so much like a feline.

I'm not counting on it, though.

11 comments:

Melissa said...

It is your solemn duty to tease your sisters. You with your extra U and your irregardless and your guilt.

And please, if you're sick, you're supposed to take time to get better. No guilt allowed. Of any kind.

Feel better! Get medicine!

Dana said...

Hope you feel better soon!

Heather said...

Irregardless? I hate you :p
I really hope you beat this soon. I totally understand - I don't know that I have the same one but definitely something tenacious.

FRITZ said...

Who said irregardless? Garfles.

Whatever the hell bug is around this damn town needs to be found and stomped on with severity. It found its way to my house, too.

I call for an evacuation to Florida.

Jay said...

I once went more than 2 years without missing any time at all until I got sick and had to call in. I called in two straight days and they threw freaking fit. Bitched and whined like crazy. At first I thought they were joking because of my back-to-back perfect attendance years. But, they weren't joking. They were serious. So, I took a third day just for the hell of it and never bothered to try for perfect attendance again. Assholes. ;-)

Get better fast dude!

M@ said...

It's regardless, not irregardless!

Um gonna go take a shit now and forget about all of this....

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

First off: People! "Irregardless" was a joke! Come on! How backwards do you think I am?! (Wait, don't answer that.) I merely threw that horrendous word in there for my sister's benefit. I know that it gets under her skin (like "favourite" and "kerb" and "colour" and "everyday" and "workout" in the wrong contexts)! That's why I italicized it, for God's rice wine!

:-P

Mel: Got medicine. Took medicine. Now feel dreamy. :-)

Thanks, Dana! I'm sure I will!

Heather: You know it was just a joke...right?! :-O

I'm with ya, Fritz. We're all off to Florida, only to return to Michigan in June, when the weather is 89 degrees in the Ef-El-Aye and the humidity is 387%. :-\

Jay: That is absolute crap, man. Two years of perfect attendance doesn't mean anything? I call bullspit.

Matt: Thank you, sir, for your ass-toot-ness. :-P I reckon--ung-hunnh--that "irregardless" comes from some simple folk mixin' up "irrespective" and "regardless," ung-hunnh. [my Slingblade impersonation--thanks, I'm here all week]

Anonymous said...

Damn and I was hoping you'd be feeling better by now. That sumbitch is sure making the rounds I tell ya!

oestrebunny said...

I did have two years perfect attendance at my work and they also bitched mightily when I needed a sick day.

But then my work are complete assholes so that's only to be expected.

ps. You do get irish guilt, but it's catholic guilt.

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

Sporkarine: I'll be back on Monday. It should be interesting.

Bunny Bleu: Oh. Catholic guilt. Well, seeing as how I'm not Catholic, I guess my analogy has fallen flat.

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