I am sick today, Sunday, my only day off. The injustice is incredible.
Worse, because I just started at this new high school, I don't feel I can really call in sick yet. This reminds me of a time when I myself was a student in high school, and I didn't want to call in sick for the day. I don't know what that was about, really, but I had a thing with never wanting to miss school that lasted until my senior year (when I stopped caring altogether). On this particular day, Mom drove me to school in the morning. I was really blah in the car, and when it was time to drop me off, she leaned over and, very seriously, said, "We can still go home if you don't feel good. Don't be a martyr." The tone was dramatic and akin to that used in soap operas.
I think I was a sophmore at the time and the only martyr I knew was Jesus, so I didn't really catch what she meant. But now, every time I feel sick but think, "Oh, I should go into work/school/whatever anyway," I hear Mom calling me a martyr in the background.
Somehow it makes the terrible task of working-when-sick so much more romantic.
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