The Thessaliad Redux

dodgyhoodoo has the lurgy. He's been hacking and coughing and generally miserable and they put him on antibiotics yesterday.

This morning, I woke up with a sore throat, mild fever, sniffles and the beginnings of a cough.

Yaaaaaay.

I'm still going into work today - can't afford not to, at least from a paycheque point of view. However, I'm giving the Lemsip time to kick in. So much for dinner with Mum on Saturday. (Don't worry, mitchy - she hasn't emailed me to confirm that anyway, and you have, so I am still committed to coming over Sunday to fix your computer. Unless they have to hospitalise me, anyway, in which case all bets are off.)

In other news, I am delighted to note that FFXI has had another cull. Nearly 8000 accounts got banned for RMT, third party programmes and other arseholery. This also means that something like 4.1 billion gil was taken out of circulation. I am thrilled by this. It means that the economy may in fact be worth a shit again sometime soon. For at least a week and a half. I just wish there was some way of keeping RMT arseholes off the game. I know there isn't, but it'd be nice if there was. I mean, Goblin Bounty Hunters to cull the fish bots is one thing (and that's as much a nuisance to the players as it is to the botters), but ... dear gods, the spawn campers and that kind of thing just suck beyond all reason. But it's okay; they're mostly gone now! ...For at least a week and a half. I really need to make myself a mental note to start camping NMs the day I hear that accounts have been banned.

On the subject of Deathgnome, I've been doing the crafting grind of late. Trying to get my Woodworking skill up because oddly, I need it for Cooking (Smoked Salmon recipe involves a fire crystal, Cheval salmon, rock salt and a maple log). Sort of like why I need to get my Bonecrafting up - gelatin, y'know? So currently I'm grinding on arrows. The advantage of this has been that I've also got my Goldsmithing up just a little - apparently carving up flint stones for stone arrowheads is level 2 Goldsmithing. Anyway, I've got a metric buttload of bone arrowheads and stand to get more when I level up Bonecrafting again (good to level 9, I'm like level 4 or 5 at last check) so it'll be a grind of Stone Arrows to 3, Maple Wands to 6, Bone Arrows to 9, and then I'm levelled enough to make smoked salmon without breaking anything. Though it'd also be nice to get it to level 21 and make my own maple sugar. Though then I'd have to go logging if I really wanted to save any gil. Well, it's not like I'm not high level enough now to go logging in various spots without catching aggro and dying horribly, and it'll only get better with time.

Gods, I feel awful...

I've had the flu for days. Bad sinuses, headache, bad digestive system, aches and pains, constant fatigue, "some virus has got into my system and is not by any means letting go" flu. This is bad when you're working as a temp, paid by the hour and have a run of really bad luck in terms of attendance to date. And of course, I've already missed two days of work over this. Now, I know full well that I can miss two days of work and still make appropriate contribution to the household finances as well as throw in for groceries. Three? Ugh. However, I did the best part of a full week last week, marred only by a trip to pick up my new glasses and a lunchtime departure on Wednesday because there was nothing to do and some IT goon was poking at the only computer available for my use that day. So today I am well aware that I am going to be at least late for work on the grounds of being unable to get out of bed, and sitting up is bad enough in terms of nausea without sticking myself on public transport for an hour and a half. So the question is whether I call in late, or call in sick.

Cons of calling in sick:
1. Working a temp job as I am, they don't take kindly to people who can't come in. Temps are disposable. If my attendance record doesn't improve, there's a strong possibility that I will simply be replaced.
2. If I don't go in today, I'm getting a maximum of two days' pay this week, and that messes with the finances a little. It's not as big a deal as it could be, doing the maths in my head, because of having worked four and a half days the week previous, but still not ideal.
3. As re: 2 - it means that Brighton Below really is a bust. Daz and yshala will be disappointed, as am I; I want to see them, they want to see me, they'd like to have someone else they know there and the idea of playing a Neverwhere LARP really appeals. But if I can't get in today, I really just can't afford it.

Pros of calling in sick:
1. I still feel like crap and putting myself on public transport for a total of three hours throughout the day, spending the first half-hour of my day wandering around the department like a lost soul in search of a usable desk and possibly having to deal with the phones is probably not a good idea. Sitting upright long enough to type this is bad enough.
2. This at least makes my Brighton Below decision for me. I do want to go, don't get me wrong, but with the last-minute aspects of all of it - booking and getting the last details of my character sorted and so forth - I was a little leery.
3. There are six agencies, one of which I'm already registered with and another of which is a step forward into legal secretarial (better money, more opportunities for straight-up typing work) who want to talk to me about roles coming in, and they're bound to be better than what I'm doing now. Calling in sick gives me questionable 'leisure' to ring these people and find something better with a paycheque in the works and holiday pay owing (enough, thank you, to cover another week's worth of absence, at current rate of pay).

So the final decision boils down to: is spending the day feeling more like crap than I already do worth a Saturday spent with friends, when if I try to work through being sick, I might not be well enough to go anyway? And, given that the mere addition of toothpastey water to my stomach has just made my stomach heave, I think that's my decision made. So ... agency phone calls today, then.

My life sucks.

Running late and I don't care. This, frankly, is what flexitime is for.

Due to circumstances I'd rather not rant about right this second, I wound up too angry and frustrated to even contemplate going to bed until about half-two in the godsdamned morning. Then lay awake for at least a half-hour. The fact that I did not manage to crawl out of bed until about quarter to eight? Probably not surprising.

I have a screaming migraine, a flare-up of the stupid symptomatic hiatus hernia, intense tiredness and a general overall sense of impending dread. All I really want to do right now is sleep until Friday. Though I will settle for an end to the migraine and possibly something where my stomach doesn't feel like it's being tied in knots.

Still, the bosses are in today (I think - to be honest, I can never really tell, whatever their diaries say) and since they were in until 7pm yesterday (when the taxi I booked for them whisked them to the restaurant I also booked for them), there's likely a lot of stuff to sort out. So I'll head off and stop somewhere for painkillers and such on the way. I shouldn't be too late because there is the Tube, and I'm owed an hour's flexi on the grounds of having stayed until half-five yesterday so moving is not a massive priority. And besides, I can stay late to cover it ... provided I can move at all. Gods, I hurt.

I know, I know - whinge moan, moan whinge. The bonuses here, I suppose, involve having had dinner with mother last night during which she presented me with a metric buttload of new clothes. Less for me to have to buy, anyway. It's not all stuff I'd choose, but since when is work-stuff ever stuff I'd pick for myself? (I'd have veered away from the patterns more, personally, but fashion's weird.)

Anyway, I suppose I really should head off. I just want to go back to bed and forget the world exists for awhile. Is that so much to ask?

Still half-dead from flu. I am surviving predominantly on Imperial Spice tea (thank you, tithenai) and stubbornness. This is not your average flu bug - I never had vomiting with the flu before. I could take the rest of it, but this ... not so much. I absolutely have to be into work on Friday to tidy things up before my boss returns from two weeks working in her GP practice, so dear gods I hope I'm feeling better by then. The throat's shown some improvement, anyway. Now I just can't breathe through my nose and nausea has me. I have had tea and meds, so I'm thinking back to bed for a few hours and see how I feel.

I may try to set up iMisc so I do not have to sit in the study chair to surf and chat and stuff. But it partly depends, I think, on whether I decide Sims 2 might distract me from the misery. It's good and mindless, at least. And I have a commoner's freehold to design, as well as some thinking/planning to do with Islington on JusNoctis. Apparently, with the old head ST gone, we're supposed to 'make the game our own', and since it's not really feasible to have a bunch of Redcaps just clear out of an area after they've made a stand, I have to think of something scarier to put in their place. I think I have an idea or two, but ... it's going to be interesting. I may have to save my first plot idea for when I'm not about to throw this kind of crap at players. It wouldn't be a worry if the new Pooka didn't want to go explore Islington after being repeatedly told not to by one of the local knights...

Anyway. I will now take to bed with various sourcebooks and see how I feel later. Whee.

I have Harry Potter OSTs. And am currently listening to "Do the Hippogriff". I just thought I ought to point that out. You know, because ... well, the funny, maybe?

I have pain. I don't like pain. It hurts me. See, I developed a couple of moderate to nasty blisters on the bottom of my right foot - must've been Wednesday, I guess. So I've been favouring my right foot for the last several days. This has caused everything from my knees down on both legs to hurt like fuck, because I'm putting extra stress on my left leg, my right calf has been put under stress with the whole thing and then there's the arthritic knees in the muggy, humid weather we've been having. I really want to go out and get the new Sims 2 stuff pack that's been out for ages, but I don't want to hobble all the way out to Game or Woolworths. Because, y'know, the pain. I didn't even want to go as far as the Heffalump for lunch; I'm going to want to go out several blocks further why? *sigh* Well, at least I'll have to go out to the Waitrose or something, thus satisfying my 'fresh air' quota for the weekend. Stupid feet.

Oh, job of boredom. I'm applying it for it permanently. I figure, I'm fairly good at it and it's paying £24k per annum, and I get to use the computer as I see fit as long as there's not work to be done. What's not to like? I'll give the interview a shot anyway, though there might be better applicants on the whole 'talking people into representing the College at working groups etc' end of the job.

So that's all the news that's fit to print, leaving aside various whinges relating to JusNoctis. Put it this way: My character can be out of the damn city and her life becomes difficult. And now, I go contemplate lunchfood, Sims 2 stuff packs and back to work on the JusNoctis Sim neighbourhood - I was so nearly done with Hawthorn House and the entire damn game crashed on me so I am pissed right the hell off at having lost four rooms' worth of stuff but I suppose at least I got to download more stuff that might fit better so that's okay. Ish. Maybe I ought to just do Rhys' flat first - it's smaller.

Looks like yet another week in which I only manage four days' pay because of health problems. The chair is painful but moving is going to be more so, which is the only reason I'm still upright. Still, at least I'm pretty well caught up work-wise ... as far as I can be, anyway. Yeah, it sucks to get a reduced paycheque yet again, but at least I know I can manage reasonably well on four days' pay. However, as much as I can at least take comfort in the fact that I'm not going to unduly backlog myself to death and can justify it economically ... ow ow ow the pain the freakin' pain...

So I'm going to call in, and then I'm going to nerve myself to get the hell out of this chair so I can go back to bed, which may be marginally more comfortable. With luck and a hot shower or bath of some description, I might be able to sit upright with a minimum of pain by lunchtime. Fingers crossed. I've given up on the idea of leaving the house at all, though.

Oh well. If I feel up to sitting upright later, maybe I can finally get around to reinstalling Sims 2 on this machine (yeah, and Bill Clinton might fly out of my butt).

I survived. Just about. Sort of. Oh gods, I don't wanna go in tomorrow...

Okay. The chair still hurts. The stress still gives me a pounding headache within maybe an hour of walking in. The office is overheated, which really doesn't help. This morning began with phone calls, some consultant who works for a completely different secretary taking over my office and massive stacks of notes from yet more clinic stuff yesterday needing to be typed. And this afternoon, I found out just how much of a PA I'm actually expected to be.

About an hour before I was set to pack up and go home, possibly less, one of the registrars walks into my office. Leaves my damn door open and hands me a stack of papers saying, "[Consultant] says he's sorry he didn't get much of a chance to go through this all..." Turns out that, despite the fact that I was called in to clear a typing backlog and no more, the consultants are so convinced that I am their godsdamned PA that I am expected not only to type their clinic letters, but to ship off their private patient referrals to where they're supposed to go, track down umpteen sets of notes, file a whole bunch of correspondence (which probably means tracking down more notes), make appointments (THE APPOINTMENTS OFFICE EXISTS FOR A FUCKING REASON!!!) and, best of all, ring up a patient and explain why he can't do something the patient wants him to do - in short, take yet more patient-related shit on his behalf. This is on top of finishing last week's clinic list typing, starting in on this week's clinic list typing (there was as much for yesterday as there was for all of last week, I shit you not, and there was clinic this afternoon as well, which means yet more to come), correcting my predecessor's entirely shitty work and fielding phone calls from irate entitlement bitches who stop just short of the point where I can definitely call 'verbal abuse' and hang up on them. All this in a chair that is rapidly turning my back muscles into something resembling a paving slab.

HATE THIS JOB. HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.

There will be a brief turn on JusNoctis (apparently Astrid's new housemate Jack got himself set on fire so I kind of wanted to RP her reaction to her new housemate coming in with 2 Agg worth of burns), and then a brief spin on FFXI (I have plants to harvest) and then I'm going to be comatose for a few hours. Then, come morning, I will try to convince myself that either a) I can actually get out of bed and go through another day of this torture or b) I can justify the loss of income and general issues that will arise if I take the day off.

It's bad when the job makes you cry, right? I mean literally head on desk, cannot take it anymore, trying not to sob out loud because you don't want anyone in the corridor to hear you but tears are happening regardless crying? Between the headache, the back, the knees and the stress levels, that's about where I was at 4pm today. dodgyhoodoo informs me that it feels like someone bolted a tree to my spine - my lumbar spine is that stiff. This is causing severe cramping all the way around my lower abdomen and pelvis, to add to the fun of the upper abdominal stabby. My shoulders and upper spine aren't much better, and the neck pain doesn't help the migraine that develops due to the stress of the following:

* People yelling at me all day for things that aren't my fault
* The insane backlog of typing
* The four-inch-thick stack of letters the last temp typed that need to be corrected because she sucked so hard it's a miracle that whole hospital isn't a vacuum
* The bits of typing backlog that I'm not sure I can do because the tapes attached to the huge stacks of files are inexplicably missing
* The consultants who are never in so I can pin them down for information that patients keep yelling at me for

And of course, my knees are still shot. So it's not actually an exaggeration to say that I hurt from head to toe.

I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this job. I'd be on the phone to the agency first thing tomorrow except ... well, I don't want to stick some other poor shmuck of a temp with this job until I've sorted out some of the awful mess the previous temp left. I hate leaving a job in a state in which I would not wish to find it. And I wouldn't wish this horror on anyone. So I feel this need to sort out the job before I pass it on. I'm either far too nice or very, very stupid. Or both.

( Vana'diel babble )

I should go to bed now, but no idea how I'm going to get to sleep with my back in its current state. This is insane.

I made two out of three of the agency interviews. I did well in both. Then I had lunch. Then I spent an hour or so trying desperately not to lose said lunch as I was seized with rampaging gut horror. So I am now home, having rescheduled for Monday. Now I am going to go fall over and die.

Thank you for your time.

I think the fever broke last night, as I woke up this morning feeling cooler but drenched in sweat. Of course, while this is a GoodThing (tm), it's not such a good thing to realise that a) I still ache and b) I couldn't actually sleep last night for the coughing and fever and aches and pains; particularly given c) I have the first day at my brand spanking new job today. I can't afford to just not go, though I do intend to try to get out early on the grounds of being ill. I don't think I could survive the full day.

Doing bits and pieces of maths as regards transport. I'll be so glad when I'm getting paid weekly again and can just buy a weekly Travelcard and say 'screw the whole mess'. As it is, I'm acutely conscious of what I'm putting on my Oyster card and generally how I'm getting around. Turns out, oddly, that the Tube is not necessarily the easiest, fastest way to get there in all cases. Of course, some of the routes are completely insane, but that's the TfL site for you. It's looking like the 82 to Baker Street and the 74 to Lillie Street at the moment, which at least is the cheaper option but honestly, means I'm going to be getting home at around about 7 every evening. Not exactly my idea of a good time, but it's going to happen no matter how I look at it so there's no sense in complaining.

Speaking of, though, I guess it's time to put some socks on and get moving. I need to go and bung some money on my Oyster card before I hop the bus out of here.