Wednesday, St. Patrick's Day, I went over to my co-workers office and ran into her boss. She gave me a box of girl scout cookies. Said she bought some extras, so please to enjoy. My co-worker says to her boss, "These were your dad's favorite" Her boss says " Yeah, well, he's not eating anymore, so I have some extras" I should add that her dad passed a few months ago.
I laughed so hard that I cried. Hello, I love inappropriate humor.
Thursday I woke up with a cold, or something. Sore thoat, body aches, chills. I went to work anyways, because
- I didn't EVEN want my boss to think I called out sick due to St. Paddy's day hangover.
- I was covering for someone who was on vacation
- I had a SHITLOAD of work to do that had to get done by Friday.
So today, I'm lying in bed. I'm a whiny, congested mess. I'm guzzling Nyquil in the hopes that I will not only stop coughing, I may also get some sleep. I wanna feel sorry for poor pitiful me because I feel horrible and look like crap. But I am comforted by the fact that my MD cares enough about
Well, that and the fact that I can eat cookies.