I’ve been fighting a sickness since Folk Fest. Sickness which also brings with it insomnia. I’m barely functional.
But at least I have something in common with this week’s group of rag-tag sad-sacks: I feel like saying “F my Life and F this Sickness!” Still, I think these people have it worse than me. Or rather, I think they’re shittier people than me. Let’s take a look, shall we?
Sick text message!
Today, after I requested a sick day, a very close co-worker texted her boyfriend that I’m a bitch for pretending to have the same rare illness that she recently suffered. She said it was unlikely, disrespectful and unfair that I didn’t even look sick. I know this because she texted me instead. FML
Oh, so your co-worker’s a doctor? That’s terrific! She can diagnose your problems and maybe even prescribe the correct medication for you — because I can only assume based on her brutal assessment that she’s a doctor. And a cow.
We all react to illness in different ways. I mean just look at syphilis: you might have it RIGHT NOW and not even know it. Or, you could be crawling with very obvious symptoms. It just depends on what’s going on in your body, Lady Who Probably Has Syphilis.
Don’t worry about what your dumb co-worker thinks. You need to get yourself to a doctor STAT to get that syphilis cleared up.
Lace and cancelled weddings
Today, I was sitting on the toilet, pregnant as ever and really sick. I asked my fiancé to bring me a pair of clean underwear. He did so and brought me some lacy underwear. They weren’t mine. FML
Look, your future husband (or former fiancé, depending on what happened) was only trying to help. Granted when you’re on the toilet with what I can only assume is morning sickness, about the last think you want to wear is sexy, lacy underwear. You want to be swaddled and sleeping — like the baby you’re carrying!
Look at it this way: best case scenario, your husband has an underwear fetish, and maybe even likes to wear lacy items himself. Worst-case scenario, he was or currently is seeing another woman (or another man into lacy underwear as well). Either way: congratulations on your soon-to-arrive bundle of joy!
Also, I bet it was really fun being engaged while it lasted!
Today, I went to McDonalds and ordered a happy meal with a girl’s toy. The high school girls behind the counter said I was too old to be served one, and I had to go home and explain to my sick daughter why she didn’t get her toy. FML
You could have very easily solved this problem by explain how, oh I don’t know, THE ECONOMY AND MONETARY SYSTEM WORKS. It goes a little something like this:
Money — in the form of coins, paper dollars, or credit cards — can be exchanged for goods and services. You state a price, someone gives you money, and you hand over an item. It’s really that simple.
I don’t know what these high school girls were thinking, nor do I know whether or not they passed social studies. I also don’t know if you explained to them that you were buying the happy meal for your sick daughter — if you didn’t you should have; if you didn’t, you fail as a parent.
In any case, I hope you at least got some McNuggin sauce. That shit is deeeeeelish!
Image by Nathan LeClair on Flickr. Used under Creative Commons License.