Look Ma, I Evil-Eyed Myself!

As I took my meds on Sunday night, I thought to myself, "hmmm, it's been 6 months since my last attack, Wahaaaay!"

I got into bed, all tucked in nice and snug, read a little and proceeded to enter the land of abstract chance meetings with the most random people in the world, unusual teleportation-like powers, pink suede elephants drinking hot chocolate with yellow velvet monkeys, and impossible confrontations with those who have wronged and have been wronged.

Seeing as I am Eureka and I should really have a better sense of my own befuddled luck after 21 years of disappointments and upskirt moments because of it, I should have immediately texted my boss telling him not to expect me the next morning.

But no, for some reason my brain registered none of this.

And sure enough, I woke up at 4 a.m. with an attack. A proper doozy, too. Complete with high fever and shallow breathing and everything.

Sigh… Perfect timing, too. I actually had a lot of work to do that week. Then again, it is my Eureka luck, after all.

So when Tuesday rolls around I decide to go to work anyway, even though I'm still burning up and standing and a wonky angle.

That was the worst decision in the world. Our whole department moved floors on Monday (see what kind of luck I'm dealing with here?) and so I had to move two computers, piles of paper, and deal with a bunch of forms and reinstallation requests to a temporary floor until our permanent floor is completed in a couple of months. Am I alone in wondering why we couldn't just stay where we were and move just once? I know, thank you!

It took 3 hours to do something I could have done myself in 20 minutes had there not been 100 rules dictating who could carry what where using which service elevator. It took almost 2 hours to convince ANYONE to take the stuff down seeing as I wasn't allowed to use the service elevators and nothing could be moved using the normal elevators, and another half hour to convince IT to come and reinstall everything for me. I think I got into 39 arguments in those 3 hours. I'm not very popular at the office anymore.

Please note that after all that time trying to explain things like internal locks and bolts on the floor and stuff, IT still did not understand why I couldn't move the Bloomberg terminal. The thing is attached to the desk and needed a special combination or something to be removed. I just gave up at 2:30 and went home with a spiked fever and more pain.

I didn't come in the next day and did the week's worth of work in 3 hours on Thursday because I am the shit like that. Uh-huh.