A Career Woman and A Housewife

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Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Sick and Tired

I am so sick AND tired of being sick that I'm tired on top of all this sickness!

Sick...sick....sick... that's me! - Sick Morgan, all the damn time. But during all this sick time, I have come up with numerous possibilities and observations as to how I have gotten sick AGAIN. I've narrowed it down to a few possibilities. And they are as follows...

1. The majority of my free time has been spent at Jameson Memorial Hospital visiting gram. Although, she used to be on the rehabilitation unit, it is still necessary that one must travel through 8 gazillion hallways to get there, touching doorknobs, handles, etc... (and side note, I can leave out buttons on an elevator because I gave those up for lent because everytime I get on one, something happens or someone else in the elevator whom works there says "hmmm...this elevator shouldn't be acting like this," and at this point I push aside every sick and dead person to get out of the damn elevator). This is a great possibility. But let's back track.

2. I do spend an hour a day in a school setting. Those gross, sickly children are all infested with 8 gazillion germs on top of the 9 gazillion we as humans already have. There I have to touch doorknobs, pens, papers, etc. of those gross, sickly children and they sit within three inches of my very being. Did that student cough in my face yesterday? I believe she did. Rotten child. But when I leave the school, I tend to go to the mac machine - wait just a darn minute there ... another possibility.

3. At the MAC machine, approximately 80 some people have already sneezed, wiped a boogie, etc... and then withdrew funds from their account (probably to pay the enormous co-pay at a doctor's office because they are so sick... I love ya George W. Bush, but can we do something about this insurance situation?)

4. I take money out of the MAC machine too. I need to go to the doctor, after all, all of these possible scenarios have led me to the indulged, tiring, i'd-like-to-kill-myself-but-im-too-busy-to-do-even-that sickness. So I go to the doctor and use the same damn pen that the 70 yr. old woman has just hacked on while signing herself in. And then I pay my 8 million dollar co-pay with the germ-infiltrated money I received from the MAC machine that the sick teller at the bank probably placed in the machine on her own.

5. Then I come back to work. I insist on eating a million and one times a day, so I go down to the vending machines, that every juror, convict, escapee, fellow co-worker, whom I am sure came down with something from their child or....whatever and push those buttons on the four vending machines (because we all know that I eat from each, yes, I eat out of all four vending machines).

These are all very good possibilities as to why I couldn't stop sniffiling last night in class, why I woke up at least three times last night, with a mouth and throat full of mucus (sorry, I know, ewe), and sneezed a gazillion, million times while getting ready. These are possibilities as to why I have had to take a allergy pill, cold pill, and advil all within four or so hours of themselves. And these are also possibilities as to why I am in a horrible mood and will probably rip off anybody's face who crosses my path today. Beware of the dog. Enter with caution.
~ A Sick Career Woman

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