I like to think work doesnt' really matter, that my job is just a means to buy books and new colors of encaustic wax and nice pens for writing and valentine presents for my own true love. But this week the great state of Oregon showed up and graded my performance. I was so happy when I got an A+ for working.
My husband just finished watching Men Who Stare at Goats. He thinks we should drop acid and get back to our roots. I reminded him just where our roots come from, what they look like, gnarled and rotting, even in the considerable distance of retrospection.
Then, after I got my gold star, I started feeling really shitty again, went back to the doctor and learned it is not a virus or sinus infection that is torturing me. I have pneumonia. I am such an invalid.
3 comments:
Pneumonia?! Jesus, bluesky. WTF? Is this somehow connected to that lovely gold star? Congratulations of course but you wouldn't, by some wild chance, be teetering towards being a workaholic would you? I know you are not an "invalid".
most definitely not a workaholic.
Whew!
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