In almost eight years of service to my current employer I have only ever had 4 days off sick. Three of which were in the last twelve months. Today is my fifth. I hate it. I hate phoning in sick. On November 11th last year I damaged my knee, yet still managed to get into work – hobbling around dosed up on painkillers. In February I had bad stomach pains. I made it to work but after 15 minutes started vomiting and was sent home.
I really feel that most illness is in the mind. People who take days of because of a cold irritate me. It’s pathetic. Last night though I got up too fast off the sofa and turned my ankle. This morning I awoke to find swelling the size of a golf ball and the ability to walk about as well drunken Essex-girl in white high heels.
I wanted to go to work, I tried walking around and around the flat to try and get my ankle working again but it is just not having it. So I’ve phoned in sick and I’m now bored. I’ve watched some of my Star Trek DVDs and some of Channel 4’s Teachers on DVD but I hate just sitting around not doing anything, especially when I know I’ve got loads to do at work.
The internet will distract me for a while, as will the fact I still have to write this week’s pub quiz. So an afternoon of listening to radio two and feeling like a pathetic moron is all I’ve got to look forward to.
Oh well I’d better keep it elevated. Also I know I want a cup of tea in half an hour – I’d better start walking to the kitchen now!