I've spent the last two weeks laid up with an annoying illness. I went into work for the first time in March today and I didn't make it an hour before my throat started swelling up. I asked to be put on emails. An hour later, I'm hot and disoriented. I can't remember anything and my fingers aren't doing what I tell them to. It takes four tries to type "CSR" onto a screen. On break, I put my hours on the give away board. Writing up the small slips of paper took four tries to write two tickets. I couldn't keep myself from writing "Tuesday" and "3/15" for Thursday 3/17. After break I asked to speak to my supervisor. We went into an office space and I told her how freaked out I am about being sick this long and about my frustrations with calling in sick all the time. She drafted up the paperwork for immediate layoff because of illness. All I had to do was sign on the Employee Signature line. Even that took unnecessary effort. There were too many lines to choose from.
Jared and I got hamburgers after he picked me up from work. I wanted to sleep on the bar, and I was totally sober. We stopped over at Menard's to pick up spray paint for my new projects then came home, watched half of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome and crashed at around 10:30 PM. I woke up at 12:18 AM hot as Hell. Now, I'm back to staying up very late feeling like it's August in Florida and our A/C is out again.
Tomorrow I have a date with a welder to fix my metal end table. Jared said he could fix the leaves of my typewriter table with pliers. I need to make doctor's appointments both with my general and my podiatrist.
I'm making appointments to view apartments on Saturday. I figure either I'll get over being sick or I'll die. And, if I die, apartment hunting won't be so important anymore.