Grown-up time again

someecards back to workWent back to work today.

And back to the harsh reality that because I spent the past 2 days sniffling miserably on my couch instead of sniffing miserably at my desk, I’m not going to be able to take even one hour of sick time between now and my impending jaw surgery on April 10th if I actually want to be covered when I’m out. Which I have to be or we’ll fall back down deep into that financial pit we’ve been slowly clawing our way out of. i-hate-to-waste-sick-days-being-sick-funny-posterIt amazes me how quickly I use up my leave time. I get a decent amount, I’m guessing a lot more than the average desk cog. 3weeks of annual and 3 weeks of sick per year. Yet it all seems to slip away one day at a time so my accrual balances on my paystub are woefully less than what I need for, say, an upcoming medical procedure that will have me out of work for 2 weeks if I’m LUCKY. A doctor appointment here, a headache there, a feverish Peach or a Princess with ketones, I just never seem to have enough. And it is generally me who handles the sick kids because The Zen Master doesn’t get leave. At all. He doesn’t work, he doesn’t get paid. So I use my time for my babies and then, because sometimes I just can’t be all Ms. Toughy-Pants, I take a day to deal with a massive headache or a head cold or a stomach… issue. Oh, and the Bipolar throws a wrench in the works occasionally too. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen too often, but when it does… 3-5 days, minimum.

Believe me, I’m not complaining. I remember being a single mom, working, going to school and getting no sick leave whatsoever. I either went to work or didn’t get paid. I was a big whiney baby with a poor work ethic and far too much dependence on my parents so I usually chose the latter. Since my bipolar was largely unchecked, my absences were frequent and often resulted in a “Listen, if you can’t make it in again today, we’re going to have to take you off the books.” Which was a nice way of saying I was fired. imagesCA204FS1And I know that there are plenty of mom’s out there in that situation or one just like it who do have a good work ethic and do go to work when they’re dying on their feet because they know if they call out more than once it’ll be their job and they’d rather put their job at risk for when they really need it, for their kids.

So I’m grateful. In a major way. I’m basically just wondering how to not do that. I could go to work when I am in blinding pain from a headache or have sinuses so stuffed up that I can’t breathe. I doubt I’d get a hell of a lot done, but at least I’d be conserving my leave time. Also, I don’t like working with a cold or virus because I don’t like making others sick. My office is one of those “Be considerate to your co-workers and stay home if you’re sick” places. Which is all well and good but since The Peach seems to be a microbial production factory yielding specially-formulated Mommy-And-Peach germs that only make the two of us sick, staying home everytime my spawn spawns a mucous manufacturing virus is impractical and kinda silly. Hunh. That sentence came out… interesting. Anyway. Where was I? I was momentarily distracted by my long-winded cleverness. Riiiiight… Sick leave. I am the parent of a teenager with a chronic health problem, I’m bipolar, status-post bariatric surgery with subsequent multiple vitamin deficiencies and suffer from chronic headaches due to fairly severe TMJ. Oh, and I am also mom to a toddler… So I think maybe I shouldn’t feel too guilty on the using-up-all-my-sick-time point. Who knows, maybe Princess Punk will get her shit together and The Peach will build up her immune system and this upcoming surgery will fix my jaw issue. So maybe in a couple years we might actually take a vacation.

I’m adding a new category to my blog. I’m going to call it, “whining,” since I feel like I do a lot of that. That way if you get sick of my First-World Problems, you can just skip those posts. Kay?



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