I woke up feeling not so great on Saturday morning and even worse after getting out of bed. When it feels like your bladder is on fire, there’s a massive problem.
It was as I thought: another infection, meaning another trip to urgent care and another round of antibiotics. Oh, and a note from the doctor saying to stay home for a day and rest. Which I did immediately upon arrival. I basically stretched out in bed and went to sleep for an hour and a half.
The major problem is this might be an ongoing thing. Infections like this become more common and more frequent after menopause due to the lack of estrogen. Anybody wanna guess what hormone that tamoxifen was blocking?
Yep. Estrogen. Fuck you, tamoxifen. Fuck you very much. My life is pain.
I felt fine to go to work on Sunday, so I got to earn myself that sweet Sunday money. We weren’t busy, just steady and things really quieted down after 14:30. I was at the door all day so it wasn’t too terrible. Thankfully, no one butted heads or got irritated with anyone else. But, I did hear a little something.
Since Dora has taken over our schedule, Kim is not happy. She’s not getting the days off that she wants and she’s been complaining about it non-stop. She’s trying to claim seniority or something to that affect but I don’t think she’s been in the department long enough for any real seniority. I don’t know.
It was a mostly quiet July 4th. Well, as quiet as can be expected when you live around neighbors who think they’re in a Michael Bay film. It took hours before they were done with the fireworks. Prime and I didn’t celebrate, for obvious reasons. What’s there to celebrate anymore? Half of the population has been stripped of their rights, and they’ve already said they’re going after more. This damn country has become an absolute shithole.
Happy fucking Fourth of July.