I still don’t feel 100% but like the hero that I am, I’ve dragged myself to work. I must say that there is a distinct lack of sympathy in this office, which considering I run the payroll has now been duly noted.
The headache’s gone for the time being, thank the Gods, but I’ve definitely got a cold. I appear to have developed one of those stupid irritating coughs as well. I was sitting here coughing and not one of them asked me if I wanted a glass of water. In fact, they totally ignored me and carried on talking about the Wolves & West Brom football match that was played last night.
When I eventually stopped, I thanked them for their show of kindness - they honestly shouldn’t have bothered. It was at that point that it dawned on me just how much working with me has affected Craig. His reply: Oh, we care Sue; it’s just that we’re men, so we don’t like to show it.
++++
And Eldest rang last night. It’s Fiancée Birthday and he forgot – could he borrow some money until pay day? He got me out of my sick bed for that one, mainly because he wouldn’t ask his father. Guess who he thinks is the soft option? Oh, and after I’d been around the bank to get the money could I please drop it off to him at work. He couldn’t very well pop out of work to get it from me; they’ve been really busy of late.
And of course I said yes. After all I’ve nothing important to do, I can just leave work whenever I chose and walk to the bank. I can then drive the five miles to where he works and drop the money off. No problem.
Did I mention that it’s raining here and cold, damp and miserable? And I’m not well. Sorry, must have forgot that bit.
I would also like to point out that there hasn't been any emails from certain individuals asking about my well being either. And it's not as if I've not told them I'm ill, because I bloody well have. I'm poorly and no one cares.
OK, I'll take that bit back - Craig cares. He's just offered to go to McDonalds at lunchtime. As I'm ill, I obviously need coaxing to eat something.
++++
I think I’ve found out why the cat keeps bringing mice home. She’s been trying to tell Himself something:
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/rtrs/20070516/thl-uk-hair-acc9995.html
12 comments:
Excuse me? Send back all those get well huggles immediately then. Seeing as you don't want them and all.
Some of us could have yapped at you because you've gone into work when you're not well. But did we? No we didn't. That could now change. If you're well enough to poke at us with jibes you're well enough to get told off.
And give back the chocolate I sent as well. You dont need it and McDonalds.
I think it's you who's starting to act like the men you work with. Next thing we know that cold will turn into man flu.
Pooks
Excuse me? Excuse me! Just look at the time of your comment. I’ve been ill since yesterday. But does anyone care? No, they don’t. Not one paper tissue did I get, let alone any chocolate or cheese covered crumpets.
And some of us have to go to work - things don’t happen if they don’t. How can I rub it in that I’m a martyr if I’m lay in bed?
a)I'd like the readership to note that I emailed you before that time.
b)All of us are at work - you know doing our jobs
c)you're not so flippin sick that you didn't have time to stir the really scary one of 'ttwmbo' and point her in my direction.
and
d)*raspberry* right back attcha
What can I say? It's a skill. And way too easy at times.
*walks away whistling*
A skill? You think this is a good thing? Just wait, cos when you've been lulled into a false sense of security I'm going to get you right between the eyes. I would hate you to say you weren't warned or nothing.
And sick people with sore throats and all shouldn't be able to whistle. And it'll be really hard when I dunt you in the gub!
A very offended Pooks
I think you'll find that hitting isn't allowed. Only winding people up. Unless you want to end up in even more trouble than you're in already, that is?
And you’re wasting your time expecting any sympathy from the readership. The comment box doesn’t work remember?
Well is that case no one is going to know or even less care that Harry and Sam are going to remain in that flippin corridor for time immemorial then, will they?
No one has asked for any more and that's fine by me. The tartan one tapped his toe but that doesn't count - they can fall off the cliff for all I care.
And no one is going to defend you when i call you a slabber, so there. Because, let's think, YOU ARE.
PookyVerde (I no longer love you enough to sign off Pooks)
If this is you not having a paddy , may the Gods have mercy on us all when you do.
And of course everyone wants to know what happens to the boys. They'll starve if you leave then in that corridor. Then you'll get upset and feel guilty for not looking after them better.
And I’m ill, you’re not allowed to be nasty to me when I’m ill.
Why do you think they call it having a paddy? And no this is not me having one of those. This is a mere english. You'd be better served not trying to get me to throw a paddy because it will show your tantrums up as being those of a mere amateur.
And no one is going to believe your pathetic whinge of 'i'm sick, be nice to poor little me' ever again. Because sick people don't have the energy to stir or to gloat when they get their writing partner into trouble. No they don't. Not that much energy at all.
Anddd I'm a not being nasty. I'm being righteously indignant. And you deserve it.
I don't care if the boys starve in yon corridor - they deserve it - ungrateful wretches. And may I remind you that you refused any more JJ until people came through with the polite 'please will you write some more.' Seem to remember that I did. And yet....So what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!
Pooky Verde - Ms Verde to you
Sue,
I'm sorry to hear you're unwell. I'll send you some chicken soup - but it'll probably be cold by the time it makes it over there to you. Make Himself put it in the microwave. :D Feel better!
-Nicole, who is pretty sure she mentioned wanting more story from the Leprechaun in an e-mail, but also knows how well demanding works on Certain Other People, so has been trying to be patient
Ahh, thanks Nicole.
*looks around* I'm sure that you did say you wanted more of the boy's stories, take no notice of the imp; she'll not really leave them in the corridor.
They're my boys and I'll leave them where ever I blooming like. You can talk, Jay's been in that back bedroom for months.
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