Wah...

I'm sick. I hate being sick. I really do. Especially now that I have T.D. for a few reasons.
1. I don't want her to get sick and inadvertently get a whole roomful of daycare kids sick.
2. I cannot get that old Robitussin commercial with "Dr.Mom" out of my head now.
3. I have no PTO or sick leave (that doesn't exsist here) to take.

I am achy. I am congested. I am Jack's spleen. For some reason that never stops being funny to me. I still love my Fight Club! My throat hurts. Are you feeling my pain? Dayquil only does so much. How I drove to work today is a mystery to me. I think the Pathfinder just intinctively knows (but not scarily Christine-like knows) how to get here each day.

So I sit here at my desk, under my bountiful flourescent lighting, and sip my tea with lemon. I brought soup to work but forgot a bowl. Sigh. If I break the microwave at work will I have to fess up and buy a new one? Will they know it's my veggie soup can that made the 'wave go up in flames?

Is it worth it to stay at work because we are having divine, yummy chocolate cake filled with Costco-style chocolate mousse? Probably not, but it is tempting.