2007-04-06

Sick.

I'm home today. Sick. The houseboy was shocked that I actually called in this morning. I can count on one hand the number of sick days I've taken in all the years I've been at the theatre. This is a big deal for me. I usually have to be expectorating like Vesuvius and/or utterly unable to move.

I forced myself to call in today because while I'm not at death's door, exactly, I do feel like a big pile of ass, and I'm fairly certain that what I've got is contagious, since I'm pretty sure I got this from a coworker. I'm not doing anyone any favors by bringing MY pestilence into the cube farm, and I'm really trying to work on this "martyrdom" thing. Trading in my no-longer-reliable "feel sorry for me" jalopy for a later-model "suck up and deal" vehicle. Better mileage, and in the long run you're not driving around on four bald tires.

Besides which, I'm performing with PK tomorrow night, and right now my throat feels as though I've been gargling driveway gravel.

I shall probably go back to bed, although the siren call of Maury Povich (aka the "Who My Baby Daddy" show) may prove impossible to resist.

lisamcc at 9:58 a.m.

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