I should’ve listened to Shakespeare.
Yesterday was supposed to be a relatively easy day for me at work. Half a day, with only about a dozen patients in the morning, then the whole afternoon off to chill.
Someone called out. Someone else went home sick. Someone else went home because of a sick babysitter. Life said “No, no, you’re going to work a full day today. End of story.”
It wasn’t too bad of a day, so I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. Still, when you plan on a half day it’s disappointing to wind up working the full day. Granted it’s more money, but there’s also the potential for more stress and you lose the time to do other things that you could have been doing. Like, I couldn’t sew yesterday afternoon because the boot’s still on (hopefully off this afternoon!), but I could have been editing, doing rewrites, writing, critiquing, napping, etc. Plenty to do, but I lost that time.
Now, I’m not using the Ides of March as a way of saying that the sick coworkers (and babysitter) stabbed me in the back; it’s not their fault. If you’re sick you’re sick, and there’s really nothing for it. However, I am going to blame superstition here and say that the Ides fucked me over. Seriously, Ides? What’s up with that?
Well, today my half day is guaranteed. I have my follow up appointment for the broken foot, where it will be determined if the boot comes off or if there’s six more weeks of boot.
Here’s hoping the X-ray doesn’t see any shadows.