A day in the life of a chicken butt:
5am: Oh wow. oh wow. oh wow. (heard as I walked into the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot.)
It was the Oh Wow cat, outside, after a night of fighting or whatever that goof does.
I let him in, and told him I really didn’t feel like getting up quite yet.
6am: The Oh Wow cat was on his third meal of the day.
Me? I was on my second cup of coffee, wishing I could pour a little Irish blessing in my cup.
8am: At work.
Comments: “Hey! I thought you had the chicken pox.”.
Oh cripes, I forget, I posted that ridiculous thing last night about having the pox.
830am: Pasted red hearts over my face.
9am: Walked through the warehouse.
The usual reaction:
“What the hell is on your face?”
Response: “Oh, I have a contagious disease. Chicken Pox. Wouldn’t you think my boss would tell me to get the hell home? But no, somehow, nobody really believes me.”
10am: “Got any candy?”
“Uhm. Geez, Somebody ate it.”
Noon: Wheels on meals. Had to head home to feed the cats and Jim.
Oh Wow cat: no where to be found. Probably outside, bloated from the 3 breakfast meals.
Puff: Hiding. Somehow she knew I had meds for her, from her friends Harry and MCat.
Jim: Sick. Ok. Maybe a cup of tomato soup.
Me? Geez, I don’t know. I guess I should eat. Grabbed 2 pb and j sandwiches.
Back at work:
2pm: Oh yeah, a web meeting.
Huh? Did anyone else get what that was all about?
Our boss: Can’t talk?
Huh? What did we do to make that happen?
3pm: Looked in the mirror. Pox gone.
Thanks Pat, for bringing me the cure: A weiner saved the day.
Many issues for the rest of the day, all relatively resolved.
Even those for the pope.
5pm: Bye bye Ms American Pie.
Time to put on my nurse’s cap and trip the light fandango.