Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : Friday

Chilly Coon Kitty considers working, so I’m giving him a hand.


Friday’s “whether” forecast (as in “whether or not I can get out of bed this morning”):  Foggy all day.

Next time I’m calling in sick.

There’s a 30-something shadowing me for my job who has a vibrant, outgoing personality, and a lot of talent for paperwork.  She was supposed to be in my office working on reports by 10:00am.   

I arrived at work, 10:00am came and went, so I messaged her on my cell phone.  Ends up, she was sitting in the ER with an IV drip.  Diagnosis?  Stomach virus.

How can I be angry at a dehydrated someone who had been throwing up all night…

…and didn’t bother to write a 6 1/2-word email that said: Fever, vomiting, won’t be in today?

Friday’s anger level: Defcon 2, shooting off messages with a smile.

 In the 1960’s, “24 hours virus” was another word for mild food poisoning.

Mom sent me to school the next day…on my bicycle…to ride a mile to living hell school.

Who knew that leaving potato salad on a picnic table in 90F weather for 8 hours could make you upchuck?  It seems there is a whole lot of C#@p in the mayo to keep it from spoiling.  Onions aren’t that lucky.

But I digress.

Why was my first reaction anger? 

A mere 22 years ago, I fell down the stairs and tore every tendon, ligament and muscle above the ankle.  The orthopedic surgeon said it would have been better if I’d broken it.  I had an audit the next day and arrived at the state agency office on crutches with a cast on my leg, my better half carrying a box full of files.

My point?

There are only 2 reasons I don’t call someone to tell them I won’t be at an appointment:   I’m in a coma or I’m dead.

I use the word “coma” loosely to include brain farts; a condition in which the body still walks, mumbles, and eats, but it can’t talk or think.

One of those walking comas happened to me the week before, on a Tuesday.  Three people walked into an office that can barely hold 2 on a good day, and I asked, “Why are you here?”

The reply to my ill advised question? “We had an appointment.”

I looked on my calendar and realized the horrible truth.  We were in the 3rd week of October, not the 4th.  Instead of turning them away, I said, “This is a great teaching moment for the woman who will be taking my place when I die.”

Probably not the best choice of words.  Most people take death much too seriously.

Yes, the woman shadowing me was there.  In my defense, I kept the appointment and it was a great teaching moment.

What she learned from it might not be what I intended to teach.