Day 6 (PM) My body is trying to kill me, and I can’t get a restraining order
Bummed. Big fat, depressed, bummed. First medical review, took my blood pressure and weight and had to pour my heart out to my Doctor. Not fun. Not me. I am a pretty closed type, really; I was bought up the north side of the famous quote “never air your dirty laundry in public.” It makes…
Day Six – Medication Review (Whee!)
AM Im up, kind of up, Im up walking, showering, getting ready for my medical review. I’ve had six days on the fat making happy pills prescribed to stop me from shaking, twitching and being generally skittish. So now it’s time for a review and another week’s medical clearance/validation to not return to work and…
Day 5 – Shadows and shitty corners
Ahhhh, another day unemployed on stress leave in the quiet uptown Harlow. I made it out of bed for a few hours today. On the one hand, I feel I’ve achieved, but also Im also like, is this my life now? Getting out of bed is a stellar achievement? The anxiety in my head arched…
Day Four – Don’t skimp on the fabric softener in times of crisis, it counts.
Daily Priorities Get up. Get the fuck up Get the FUCK UP! P.S – Zero priorities achieved. P.P.S Netflix is on my phone; I don’t even have to go to the lounge room.
Afternoon (PM)
Fuck it. It’s all too hard; I am going back to bed, watching Netflix.
DAY 3 – Waiting for the medication to kick in..
Morning (AM) What am I going to do? I can’t go back to work under F.F. Nobody disagrees or walks out on F.F. (I disagreed AND walked out) Shit, I live in the Company provided housing. Shit. Im screwed; how am I going to navigate this open, dark, yawning black trench? I am fucking, forty,…
DAY 1 – THE DAY AFTER
Daily Priorities: Book Dr’s appointment and get a medical certificate for work time as you’ve clearly lost it due to stress from that higher functioning psychopath Ms Fuckety FuckFface. Fill any prescription for medication provided Buy alcohol, day drinking, yay!, might help take the edge off that you’ve just fucked yourself and your career. Bed,…
Thought I was a BANG… alas..
Well, Im fucked. Totally, fuckally fucking fucked. Today I cracked, lost it, spat the dummy, threw the chips in, walked off the bus; the backs of an unfortunate camel broken, and I had fresh run out of straws. Today was the day I walked away from a job of twenty years at “the Company”. I…
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Surviving Harlow 