I’m getting over a cold so you know what that means: a hacking, choking cough.
I’ve had the cough since I was a kid. It’s dry and ticklish, and lasts for weeks on end. Last year I went to the doctor who said it was either asthma or allergies. Since I can run four miles without losing my breath, I figured it was probably the latter.
Allegra took care of it (along with my hives), but now that I don’t have insurance, I don’t get Allegra.
I have to make do with water, tea, and lozenges, and scaring people into thinking I have H1N1 or bird flu.
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Had my yoga class yesterday and my arms are sore! But in a good way, not in a I-can’t-even-scratch-my-nose kind of way. I also ran four miles. Woohoo!
What keeps me from going crazy without a nine to five job is 1) staying in shape, and 2) being a productive writer.
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Heard the most corp-speaky conversation at Bittersweet the other day. It was three young women in skirt suits, and one, maybe the manager, said “spot on” and “stay the course” at least half a dozen times. (Why do so many corp speak terms ape the military? “All hands on deck.” “Round the horn.” “Stay the course.” Planning a party is not tantamount to planning an invasion.)
Then the manager type chewed out one of the girls for seeming “disenchanted.” How much you wanna bet that the girl was doing her job just fine, but because she wasn’t a pollyanna, she’s seen as “disenchanted.” So not only do you have to do your job, you have to reassure manager types that you’re “thrilled” and “excited.”
Is it insecurity on management’s part? Or is it somehow tricking you into thinking you need them more than they need you? It’s not enough to do my job, I have to walk around with an asshat grin on my face all day. Yeah, fuck you.
Gee, Angela, tell us how you really feel.