Maybe the migraine had the last laugh after all, because it is still here this morning. Unusual, this is. As unsual as my getting up early enough to have a work-out! (Which I did. So maybe, I am being punished for that, instead of the snack last night.) Unfortunate this also is, in that the fluorescent lights pierce my retinas like lasers, so I had to wear shades in the office this morning.
Doubly unfortunate, it was, that the acerbic one from Records came round – for the first time in weeks, too – and clocked this. (For ages I thought she hated me, but now I think she just has an extremely sharp sense of humour. So I was probably right the first time.) It was she, for instance, who informed me that there was Talk about me and the Muffin Man. Thus, it will now be she who informs all of Records I was ‘on the piss’ last night. Ha.
Of course, things were further ruined because, not five minutes before, my Colleague of Cakes had done for me what I had thought to do for her. What the hell can you do for someone who is having such an awful year? I had thought and the answer was, Gift em some tasty booze – soon as the damn stuff’s finished fermenting! And so, hard on the heels of that thought, didn’t my Colleague of Cakes come in and re-gift me a bottle of coffee-flavoured Baileys? Which she put on the shelf. Where the acerbic one from Records clocked it literally minutes later, and commented much on my status as an alkie. She jested, but I just know that one’s gonna run and run. Dammit…
Possibly partly due to the migraine, today I had to fight hard for every single damn thing that got accomplished. I shouldn’t complain – Eyes are in a far worse state; and, though word has it, her non-teamwork has contributed to that, due to her repeated secondments to another hospital, My Colleague of Empty Kettles is up against it herself. Now here is a thought. What if Eyes tell her, being part of Eyes and all? I’m shafted and I take everyone with me, is what. So to get around this, I suppose I had better take a bundle off her, though it pains me to do so. Which means I have to get my own stuff finished tout suite!
Which is, of course, when all hell traditionally breaks loose, and today was no exception. More knackered than yesterday, I was, when I arrived home (although that might have something to do with declining the offer of a lift – now come on, woman, four miles is not much to ask of a grown adult!) Still. Not enough has gotten done on any day for the last week – hell, for this year, if I want to get technical – so it was a stroganoff quickly whipped up, the post opened and – ooh, a missive from Fightclub! Now I feel even more guilty for missing yesterday!
If you are eligible for a grading in a fortnight, you will have a separate sheet about it at the back, said the missive, among other things. Ha, I thought cheerfully, flipping through the schedules, I ain’t been since October. Oh look, I have one. Well, that has to be a clerical error.
Apparently not. I have a fortnight to brush up. I spent most of the evening sitting trying not to gibber in terror. With dark glasses on, because I still cannot bear the light of even non-fluorescent bulbs, it would appear.
Something tells me, this week is not going to get any easier.