Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Miracle Cure Called Sleep

I've had an eventful day, mostly working my magic as the IT girl in my office, which got a little wearing more than normal. I arrived at work this morning with a stuffed up nose, a stiff arm, and a world-weary droop to my soul. Found co-worker eyeing her computer suspiciously, assuring me the internet wasn't working. After doing "stuff" discovered the webpage her browser was set to was down. Team meetings, followed by everyone talking endlessly around me meant I didn't feel I got a lot done, although I'm sure I did. In fact, my day was pretty swell if I think about it....I sent off my £1500 invoice to Lloyds TSB, which is what I'm arguing they owe me in unreasonable bank charges plus interest since 2002. I bought some Lemsip. I bought phorpain gel (5% ibuprogen). Liz looked at my arm and assured me that it wasn't broken, it was just suffering from inflammation and possible nerve damage. I got two mugs of excellent coffee during our team meetings. I didn't feel tired all day. I got 9 rolls of toilet paper for £3.69. I bought some lovely ciabatta rolls and blueberries and yogurt for my lunch. I saw the sea in a glorious sunlight at about 11am. I went outside several times today. i got my paycheck receipt and discovered I am on the pension scheme (news to me). My friend made me pizza and salad and I drank half a bottle of wine, which was on special at Waitrose for £3.34. I sneezed a lot. I watched two episodes of "Northern Exposure", Season 3 (much better than 4 I think). I received 8 blank text messages at 7.30 in the morning from a man called Dave who lives in Oxford, which DEFINITELY WOKE ME UP IF I WASN'T ALREADY. I felt slightly shit for several reasons, not least because of my arm, but at the same time, I felt happy and distinctly ok. I'm tired now, and I feel slightly bad for not going to Simon's gig at the Albert, even though it was supposed to have been on last night but there was a mix-up. Also slightly good that I'm at home, which is always where sick people should be. He wouldn't have liked it, though, if I'd turned up, sneezing all through his set and looking like death. Yes, defintely better to look like death at home. By myself. Goodnight, lovely people.

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Blogger Maral Kojayan said...

days are never so bad when you stop to appreciate the good stuff:) - I love that you do.

3:38 PM  

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