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5:12 p.m. - Sunday, Nov. 15, 2009
Flu
I've been fading in and out through the last few days. Really sick. I called out yesterday . . .and really struggled over it. I don't know when I developed this sense of duty . . .this pressure of a standard I'm supposed to live up to - but over the course of the past six years, I became someone who is extremely efficient and dependable. This has been my second call-out in five years. The first was many moons ago during a snowstorm when I knew there was already enough coverage. I hate that I called out - because in my head I was thinking vengeful thoughts. I did need the day off. I got out of bed only to relocate to the couch, and then the shower, and then back to the bed. I couldn't have worked. But in my head, on Friday night, when I was thinking of calling out . . .I was thinking . . .these people called out, left early, and knew I didn't have the support I needed for a Friday night . . .they left, and they didn't care. And lines of angry people were screaming at me for things I couldn't control. And this isn't even really my job. So fuck you. Now you cover for me. If I was the person I should be, it wouldn't matter what anyone else did or didn't do. I would do what was right. And it was right for me to take a day to recover from this plague . . .but the thoughts that accompanied it shouldn't have been there. And I hate that I thought those things.
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