Life as Betsy

A number of years ago (five, actually), I worked for a Gottschalks store in CA and when it came to calling in sick, they were pretty ruthless. You’d reach the Customer Service desk and they would put you on hold and page the manager on duty to take your call. It was very well vocalized throughout the employees that the managers would then try to talk you out of being sick. You had to nearly perform over the phone on how sick you were. I am sure that was from years of employees playing hooky, but it was annoying for employees like myself, who only use sick days when they are legitimately sick. I have carried that with me since, always worried that I would have to prove to my employer or instructor that I am really sick.

I am not too sick to stay bedridden (though I haven’t really moved from the couch all morning, or last night, for that matter, except to go to bed) but I don’t feel well enough to be interacting with customers and being social in general. I definitely will not be frolicking in the sunshine this afternoon, though I may pause a moment or two by my car to absorb some warmth (and pray that my Transistion lenses will get dark enough for me not to need to put sunglasses on OVER my glasses). My teeth ache and my nose is so plugged and my head hurts. And now . . . now my eye is red and looking like it has conjunctivitis. That means possibly pink eye (which is highly contagious and all the more reason why I shouldn’t be at school today) though I think it is just another side effect from the sinus infection, like the aching teeth. Not taking any chances, I have to toss my last pair of contact lenses and without a current prescription, I am having to head into the eye doctor this afternoon. The earliest appt I could get is 3:30.

So . . . do I go to school for a few hours? I’d have to leave by three to make my appt. Or do I just call the day a wash, rest up and make sure to be healthy enough for the extra cirricular class I signed up for on Monday? My alternative is to not attend on Monday and go to the doctor then, but if this is something more than just a side effect, I want to get antibiotics on it as soon as possible. And again, if this is something more than a side effect, do I want to put my new friends at risk of possibly catching it too? Pink eye and conjunctivitis in general is nasty. You have to throw out all your mascara and any eye makeup you’ve used in the last week, not to mention the pus and the flaky eye lashes and the lovely reddish tint to your eye. You have to use a different wash cloth for each side of your face and wash your hands like every fifteen minutes to make sure you are transferring bacteria to anything or anyone or your other eye, if it managed to remain uneffected.

I can remember one morning when we were kids and my brother woke up with pink eye. His eye was so bad, his eyelids were glued shut and Mom had to soak it with a hot wash cloth for about ten minutes. I know I’ve had it that bad before too.

Tomorrow its supposed to be even nicer out and though I will be in school, we have plenty of windows and opportunities to slip outside for a couple of minutes of Vitamin D. I am hoping I rested enough this afternoon and evening to get over this shit.

I found these today in my closet:

Mom bought them for me to wear at the wedding reception last summer, when my feet grew too tired and gave up on the heels, but I never reached that point. With the warmer weather coming, some of my classmates feel energized to wear more cute and Spring time clothing. I figured this was my personal expression of the upcoming Spring season.

In no particular order::  

~ Asshole decided to merge without looking or using his blinker on 500 tonight. Thank goodness I actually hit my horn, long and hard at him.

~ Driver who didn’t use his blinker on 112th tonight.

~ A classmate who’s been enrolled longer than me but attends school so seldom  she feels that she can ask anyone to instruct her on how to do things.

~ Same classmate who lumps me into her (mid-40’s) age group because I am a handful of years older than a number of our classmates.

~ Same classmate thinking that I should ditch any birthday plans for my own celebration to celebrate someone else’s birthday instead.

~ Tickle in my throat that forced me to run to the bathroom in nearly a drive heave. They always flare up when I get sick.

~ Mike crushing my ailing hydrangea plant with the laundry room blinds today

~ Egg pot of Marigolds only sprouting one single plant.

~ Lack of ability to taste my homemade macaroni and cheese

~ Cheesy early 1990’s special effects in "Total Recall"

~ Sore throat keeping me awake until nearly 4 am

~ Evening flying by too quickly

~ Inability to breathe from one nostril, which chose to jump back and forth between both sides

~ Random neighbor’s car alarm which keeps going off.

~ Purposely misspelled words in an attempt to be cute.  Come on . . . use your letters correctly!

But because the entire day couldn’t be bad -

Highlights of the day::

Weighing low this morning

Doing a decent job on the Shampoo set this morning

Exciting news from my mother

It got around the school that I am pretty damn good at french tipping nails, so I am the queen of them these days. And though some people are entirely disgusted and against feet, I’m not and see it as an excellent opportunity to make a little extra money when I get out of school by also doing manicures and pedicures.

I decided to do a twist on the classic French tip on my own toes tonight and tipped them in pink.

Hairshopper consisted of myself playing "Crystal" the hair dresser, my brother playing "Doc" the shampoo boy and my father as the client. He’d sit on the floor in my brother’s bedroom, his back against the bottom bunk of Andrew’s bunk bed and I’d comb and pretend to cut his hair while Doc and Crystal babbled on about their children (Crystal had 100 girls and 1 boy and Doc had 100 boys and 1 girl) and Doc would get caught up and washed away from all the wax and water on the floor. It’s kind of hard to explain, but I suppose playing salon grew quite tiresome after ten minutes or so for my younger brother and he’d create some drama by getting caught up in a minor castrophy.

My father loved the fact that he’d get to sit and spend time with his kids and we basically would rub his hair for half hours at a time.

The funny thing is that it wasn’t like I was playing Hairshopper because I wanted to be come a hair dresser when I was grown up. But looking back now, who knows what it all meant.

After watching about fifteen minutes of a dvd that I need to go back and actually watch in it’s entirety, I decided to go play with my mannequin "Miss Barbara" ( or rather, Barbara 2, since my other mannequin is also a Miss Barbara ) and come up with my own creation.

Ta da! I am working on the title, but for now, it’s the ’Twist and Shout’.

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