Back to Being a Contributing Member of Society

                                 Back to Being a Contributing Member of Society
                                          Instead of a Drain on the Economy
　
When I hobbled in to work this morning people applauded. I found this extremely gratifying and also extraordinarily disturbing.

I intended to get a good night’s sleep on Sunday in order to be fresh on my first day back from six weeks leave. What I ACTUALLY did was polish off a bottle of Pinot Grigio which I specifically chose in order to avoid ugly, stained teeth. (I normally binge on Noir.) THEN, I called a friend from school…high school. I haven’t talked to her in, well, a very long time. We were on the phone for at least two hours.

I don’t think I’d even washed my face or brushed my teeth when I finally collapsed in bed around 10. Then I remembered that it was the season finale of The Housewives of Atlanta. I really wanted to know if what’s-her-name would get married or run, as she had several times before. I passed out about 10 minutes into the show and woke up around midnight, again about 10 minutes into the show. They re-run the same show on the same night. Needless to say, I missed the wedding.

It was then that I realized I felt like shit. I also took a deep dive into the late night depressions. Everything is twice as horrible late at night. I finally fell asleep a couple hours later. I dreamt I went to work and got fired. I woke up at 4:30, a full hour before the alarm. Lester was licking the Icy Hot lotion from my refurbished foot. That can’t be good for a cat.

Miraculously, I remembered how to get to work. The bug’s tank was on empty. Volkswagens have an incredible reserve after the empty light comes on, so I didn’t stop for gas. I stopped for gas after work but forgot which side the gas-hole thingy was on.


Anyway, I hobbled in to hear the afore-mentioned applause. That had me momentarily stunned and confused. When I recovered I fired up the computer and realized I no longer remembered my password. I had to call I.T. Eunice asked me to create a new password which I tried to do three times. She repeatedly said, “Eight characters, inclusive of upper and lower case, a number, and symbol.” I was pretty sure that’s exactly what I’d done but it was rejected. So I said, “I’m sorry Eunice. I don’t know what’s wrong.” “EIGHT characters, INCLUSIVE of UPPER and LOWER case letters, and ONE symbol.” I tried again. I couldn’t get in. Now she was yelling, “EIGHT CHARACTERS, INCLUSIVE OF UPPER AND LOWER CASE LETTERS AND ONE SYMBOL!!” Apparently I had chosen a password that I must’ve already used and it doesn’t matter if it was eight years ago. I made a new one. I finally got in.

I had hundreds of emails, most of them pertaining to bagels or donuts and where they were located and who brought them in. (Please come and get a donut! They are on the desk behind MaryAnn. Thanks Edna!) There were a few reminders that some of us still owed for the birthday fund, there were Huffington Press articles for every day I was gone (thanks Arianna), as well as MoveOn.org notices. If I die and someone who doesn’t know me looks at my email, they will assume I’m a leftist with a sweet tooth. Which is totally wrong…I prefer salty, savory food.

So that was my first day back at the salt mines, as they say. And why is that a saying anyway? It’s not like someone actually WORKED in the salt mines and said that.


I got home approximately three hours ago and haven’t elevated my foot yet. It’s so swollen it reminds me of Snookie in a tube top. I know who Snookie is now because I discovered I have the MTV channel while I was home  restricted to bed!  I thought all the channels over 59 were pay for something or music. I have the BBC channel too!

All in all, returning to work wasn’t as awful as I thought it might be, so I have to say this was a three sheet day…high thread count.