I used to get really angry when I heard people say our generation is lazy and doesn't share the same work ethic as our parents' generation. I came into work this morning at 7:00. I felt motivated. I was going to get a vat of work done, I tell you! Then I saw a showcase of several free holiday screensavers and desktop themes. It is now 8:54. I have not done a lick of work. Not a lick. The screwy part is this: Tomorrow is my last day. I don't need a snazzy holiday screensaver to cheer me for the next 36 hours. I NEED to get some damned work done.

Also, my dad hasn't called in sick for five years.
I give myself a day off every two months. You know, because I need to rest.

The following conversation occurred last night in our apartment:

A: We're moving on December 14. Holy cow. We need to pack.

J: I know. Shit! I can't believe Ed is not on. Do you want to watch Dawson's Creek?

A: Yes. I love Joey. You know, I dyed my hair the same color she uses in that commercial.

J: I know. But, you don't look anything like her! Maybe I'll pack tomorrow.

A: Maybe I look like her a little bit. She's so skinny, though. Do you think I'm fat?

J: I think you look great. I need to get some packing tape.

A: Joey's not THAT cute. I need to call the Ryder Truck place.

J: She's cuter than Jen Lindley, though. I need to call Geico.

A: If Joey showed up at the apartment, and I was gone for the weekend, would you have sex with her?

J: No.

A: Yes you would.

This goes down as the most embarrassing moment of the year...
I have a bladder infection. Not a big thing. It's normal for every female to have one every once in a while. It started yesterday morning, and although I thought I could be a gladiator about it, I realized late last night that I might need some type of medication.

I just called my doctor. (Please know in advance that I sit in a cubicle, and the only wall between me and five other people is made of cheap plywood and felt.)

Nurse: This is Flo, may I help you?

Me: (whispering) Hi, Flo. My name is Angela, and I'm a patient of Dr. Ross. I woke up yesterday morning with a bladder infection, and was wondering if it would be possible to get a prescription for antibiotics.

Flo: Please describe the symptoms for me.

Me: (turning red, as for some strange reason, EVERYONE around me is silent at their desks) Um, well, I guess I pee a lot, and it burns, and when I stop peeing I experience a jolt of pain.

Flo: Is your urine cloudy, smelly, or bloody?

Me: No to the first two, but yes to the last one.

Flo: I'm sorry?

Me: Bloody. My urine is bloody. (At this point I'm starting to get angry with her for making me describe my urine. I keep reminding myself that I made the call, not Flo.)

Flo: I'll need you to come in for a urine test.

Me: I CAN'T come in for a urine test. This is my last week at work. I've had bladder infections before, so I know exactly what this is. Please, just give me the pills.

Flo: I'll call a prescription in, but if it's not better in a week, you'll need to come in for a urinalysis.

Me: (to myself) If it's not better in two days, I'll give you all the pee you want, Flo.


Is it my imagination, or are all of my co-workers now avoiding eye-contact with me?