November 07, 2006
sick day

What the hell day is it? I’m home from work today; still sick and not getting any better. I hung on grimly through last week, hoping to recover on the weekend. I missed the unscheduled knitting night out last Friday because I was trying to be responsible (that, and Blake was freshly diagnosed with his ear infection that day. I am many things, but I am not that mother.) I stayed in all weekend, did laundry, vacuumed, even marked. I was rewarded with pinkeye.

Stupid fucking pinkeye. Everything’s blurry.

I had to go in yesterday, even though I know in my heart & mind that Public Health doesn’t want me to be a hero. I washed and disinfected like crazy yesterday; the last thing I want is to wreck my reputation at Bat Masterson by being known as Pinkeye Polly. (I can wreck my rep with my personality alone, thankyouverymuch.) Today I’m trying to rest & not think about the mountain of marking that lives in my bag. (Do you think the continual guilt about not marking has something to do with my weakened immune system? Maybe?)

At least the knitting is going well. I started & finished two pieces since Saturday, which is a new record for me. Knitting doesn’t need perfectly sharp vision, either.

One good thing about today was that I got to drop off Blake at his playschool. He goes for three mornings a week at a local highschool, so I’ve never seen the inside of the room because I’m always at my own highschool during that time. Despite the obvious age of the building (I am SUCH A SNOB now!) the room was cozy, well-provisioned, and comfortable for him and his companions. I just wish I could see him there more often. He’s clearly going to love school, just like his mommy & daddy.

(The best part? At the end of the morning, they open the door and release the kids to the waiting parents. Seeing Blake’s beaming face hurtling toward me was probably the most awesome thing in the history of the world. Just so you know.)

- 1 comments/hedgehogs -

- Rocketbride's adventure of 11/07/2006 02:28:00 p.m.

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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*